


The Cracks in the Road

by Philpott397



Category: Fallout 4, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Slavery, Some Fallout 3 Characters, combined au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16266866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philpott397/pseuds/Philpott397
Summary: The cold had taken most of his energy on the walk.  Not being fed what he needed for a decade had left him being skin and bone and the constant heat of the forges had not built up his cold resistance.  So shivering he barely got a handle on the lighter in his pocket, not to mention his pistol when the door slammed open with a rifle pointed in his face.Tracking the person holding the weapon, a tall burly man stared at him with dull green eyes and a dangerous smile on his face.  His breath smelt of alcohol, and his scared appearance told him to keep his usual attitude in check so weak in stature and energy.“Who are you boy?”  The man asked, dragging him inside to shut the gate and lock it securely.“Scott.”  He said, body shaking from the effort of keeping him going under the cold, stress, exhaustion, and malnutrition.-





	1. Freedom

“Get back to work!”  The man yelled, slamming the slave in front of him to the ground.

Scott cringed as he limped by the display, not wanting to be in the weak slave’s shoes as they were hauled to their feet and shoved toward the smelters.  His own harness rubbing against his tender chest as he fired up his saw and started cutting into rough steel plates in front of him. 

He has a relatively simple job in the pit.  Take the steel ingots that had been run through the press, and cut them into four by four sheets to be used in the new building project across the yards.  The cutter, if he kept it sharp, did a good job of slicing the metal pieces.  The only hampering factor aside from the starvation, exhaustion, and slavery.  Was the fact that the other slaves had been getting slower in feeding the press, meant that the healthy fear of getting sent out to collect ingots was on his mind most days.

Being one of the longest stays in the pit at ten years at just twenty one years old, he was often respected by the guards.  But also looked at as one of the more dangerous and tougher of the slaves in the pit.  That’s why he always had a fear of getting sent back onto the hard labor jobs, losing his easier cutting job. 

“Group 1, break time.”  A raider yelled.

Straightening his tense back he shut off his saw and tipped his face mask back before walking back to the slave quarters.  He had a room just above Midea’s.  It was almost a luxury to have a place of your own in the pit, as well as some of the commodities that came with it.

His small flat had a bedroom, bathroom, and main room.  His bedroom consisted of a wood framed bed with a mattress stuffed with old fabrics, a small nightstand with a nuka cola alarm clock, a rug, and a box filled with other clothes and blankets.  His bathroom was small, with little running water, a cracked wall, but a toilet and tub.  His main room had a stove, couch, and various boxes of things he had collected over his stay.

He had managed to get the room after defeating his own abusive father in the pit.  With his mom dead from disease, and his sister somewhere on the other side of the country in the NCR, they had had little money.  His father had brought him to the east coast in an attempt to capitalize on the resources, but had ended up failing.  When he was just ten years old his father had taken him to the pit to try and sell him for money, but ended up a slave with his son.

His father weakened under the work while he prospered.  At the age of sixteen after a particularly vicious fight over food where his father had left him in an alley to freeze to death in the night.  A guard had carried his limp body to the warm smelter and laid him beside it with a bowl of food and filtered water.  The next week he had healed and managed to carve himself a knife from the cut scraps. 

It didn’t take much to convince the guards to let him fight in the arena against his father, many were privy to the fight that went on between father and son.  He still can remember the surprise in his father’s eyes when he saw who had challenged him to the fatal duel.  And when his father had hesitated to openly attack his own son, he had launched forward to drive the serrated steal between the man’s ribs and straight into his heart. 

The crowd had roared at the surprise gasp of his dying father, and he had marched out of the arena coated in the blood of victory.  Even though he had not earned the freedom from the pit in the fight, he had earned the freedom from the only oppressor he actually knew directly.  From that day forward the little boy in him had broken to become a man that’s only goal was survival.  Survival without anyone else to depend on.

That’s why when Midea shouted to him, he closed his door and locked the several locks without a second thought.  Attachments meant weaknesses, and weaknesses couldn’t be tolerated in the pit.  He just had to concentrate on keeping healthy and strong, to one day escape or fight in the pit and earn his freedom from this hell.  Curling up into his bed, wrapped himself in the half a dozen ruined blankets he had and drifted off to sleep.

The dull ringing of his alarm clock woke him up five hours later of his ten hour break.  Changing his slave rags for another, slightly cleaner sweat pants, shirt, jacket, and slippers, he grabbed his lighter and two cigarettes to shove in one of his pouches before walking out of his door to sit on his small deck chair overlooking the main courtyard of the slave barracks. 

Flicking the lighter on, he drew one of the cigarettes out of his pouch and lit it before snapping the small metal object shut and stowing it back into his pouch.  Taking a long drag of the nicotine, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth as footsteps approached from his right side.

“Going deaf in your old age?  I yelled at you after you got off shift.”  Midea said, settling in the seat next to him.

“Like always, I was purposely ignoring you.”  Scott said, taking another longer drag.

“Come on this could mean freedom for all of us.”  She pushed, wrinkling her nose as he blew smoke her way.

“Or mass execution, no.”  He said, keeping a careful eye on the guard walking toward them.

“Get away from me before you end up in the arena with me.”  Scott threatened earning a wide stare from the woman.

“Fine, but you might regret it one day when all someone is trying to do is help and you hurt them.”  Midea said as the guard walked up to them.

“Since you two seem so energetic, take a walk and go fetch some steel.”  The man said, shoving them down the walkway. 

Scott scowled venomously at Midea as they were lead to the door to the hell of the wild city.  They were both unceremoniously shoved out the door and onto the dark and damp ground.  Without thinking he immediately grabbed the knife that he kept tucked into his boot and watched for abominations.

“We should work together.”  Midea pushed, grabbing a tire iron from a dead slave on the ground.

“You can try and keep up if you want, but I for one don’t care if you make it back.”  Scott said, walking toward the higher levels with a purpose.

Hours later he found himself separated from the woman who had luckily found one ingot under a truck and had ran back toward the door.  He on the other hand was on the roof of one of the old factories overlooking the city.  Blood covered his once clean clothes from fighting off the monsters of the city, and his knife was sticky.

Looking over the city in the silent night gave him the burning urge to just let himself run away from the pit and start a new life.  It didn’t take him that much thought to drop down into an old fire escape and make it outside of the high walls that haven had built to keep them in.  He knew that they would send a raider team out here to look for a body, and raise the alarm when they found him gone. 

It would be hell to be a slave in the pit when someone escaped.  Lockdown meant more work, less rest, and less food.  An attempt by the leadership to punish all for one person’s mistake.  If he was found it would be agony for him, if he wasn’t it would be for the slaves in the pit.  Usually connections to other slaves kept that fear in check, not wanting others to suffer, but that wasn’t the case for him.

Slinking through the alleys he made his way as far away as he could from the pit before making his way toward a rundown supermarket.  With most of the abominations centered on the pit it was peacefully quiet as he eased open the sliding doors of the store.  Walking around the store he grabbed a sturdy looking backpack before raiding the sports section for supplies. 

Loaded with a sleeping bag, freeze dried food, knives, fire supplies, a rifle, pistol, and ammo he moved onto the home goods department to grab blankets and a few towels.  Running to the clothing section he grabbed a few pairs of work pants and shirts along with new boots and shoes shoved into his bag.  Finishing off with a trip to the food section, he grabbed canned food and some medical supplies before leaving the store.

Pulling his jacket hood over his beanie hat, he started making is way north east, hoping that he would hit friendly people in east coast cities and gain enough caps to travel back to the NCR and possibly meet up with his sister if she was still alive or cared about him.  It took him two hours to make it out of the city and onto a main road that lead toward Boston.  He figured the he might run into a caravan at the best case and raiders at the worst.

Three hours of tired walking later he found a downed street sign with Altoona written across it with bold white letters.  If front of him he saw a large collection of houses with a few lights in the windows.  Shivering slightly due to the cold night he limped forward to the large gate that was attached to a high concrete wall that seemed to encompass a good twenty homes of the town.  Standing at the imposing gate, he knocked on the door and felt for the pistol tucked in his jacket.

The cold had taken most of his energy on the walk.  Not being fed what he needed for a decade had left him being skin and bone and the constant heat of the forges had not built up his cold resistance.  So shivering he barely got a handle on the lighter in his pocket, not to mention his pistol when the door slammed open with a rifle pointed in his face.

Tracking the person holding the weapon, a tall burly man stared at him with dull green eyes and a dangerous smile on his face.  His breath smelt of alcohol, and his scared appearance told him to keep his usual attitude in check so weak in stature and energy.

“Who are you boy?”  The man asked, dragging him inside to shut the gate and lock it securely.

“Scott.”  He said, body shaking from the effort of keeping him going under the cold, stress, exhaustion, and malnutrition.

“I’m Drack, where did you come from and why are you here?”  Drack asked, pushing him toward a building with a red cross on a white sign as he nodded to the other guard on duty.

“Uh, I escaped from the pit, I was going to make my way to the commonwealth to get some work and make enough to get back to the NCR where my sister is.  I don’t have any caps right now, but I have some supplies to trade if needed.”  Scott tried, internally terrified at being vulnerable to the man.

“Alright then, I can’t help you get across the country, but I can help you get healthy.  Here at Altoona we try and help who we can, but you’re going to have to help out a little too once you get better.  Sit down on that bed and I’ll go wake up my wife to take care of you.”  Drack explained, pointing toward an old medical exam table with a white towel over the top.

Scott nodded, setting down his backpack and taking off his jacket before taking a seat on the table.  As soon as the cushioned surface met his sore and overused muscles all he wanted to do was sleep in the warm clinic.  Just as he was debating lying down a woman dressed in pajama pants and a shirt with a lab coat thrown hastily over.  Her round face was framed by her glasses and warm brown hair that immediately reminded him of a motherly image that set him instantly at ease.

“I really do wish that people would wander into toward at noon, but what can you do.  My name is Lexi, I’m the town doctor.  How are you doing tonight Scott?”  Lexi asked, turning on a few lights before grabbing a cart full of medical supplies.

“I’m really tired.”  Scott mumbled, shivering slightly.

“Ok, let’s just get some fluids and food into you.  Then we’ll get you cleaned up and into a warm bed for the rest of the night.”  Lexi said, gesturing for him to follow her to the back of the clinic.

Following easily he allowed himself to be pushed into a shower with soap containers pinned to the wall as Lexi went into the kitchen to make him a quick dinner.  Dumping his clothes into a pile in the corner he stepped into the warm spray with a content sigh.  Looking down at his thin body, he cringed as he ran the sponge over his pronounced ribs and hips.

Reluctantly he stepped out of the spray after washing his outgrown hair.  In place of the pile of clothes he had left, sat a soft looking robe and a pair of white boxer briefs.  Drying himself off, he slipped on the underwear before wrapping the robe around himself and tying it.  Lexi greeted him with a smile as she gestured with her hand to a slightly elevated hospital bed separated from the rest of the room by a thin curtain. 

Handing the robe to the doctor he slipped into the bed with a content sigh, savoring the actual cushion after a lifetime of the sleeping on old shirts wrapped in a cloth.  But before he could even think of succumbing to exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones, a tray of hot soup and a glass of water was set over his lap. 

“Eat what you can, and take these to ease your pain and digestion.”  Lexi ordered, setting a small cup of pills down beside his water before turning around to rifle in the cabinet behind her.

The warm soup felt divine from his taste buds to his stomach.  Combined with the filtered water and the quick effects of the pill, he was in heaven.  So much that he almost missed the small prick in the vein on top of his hand where Lexi had inserted an IV connected to a two bags of clear fluids on a hook above his right arm. 

“One is further fluids that you need, the other is vitamins and minerals you need.  It’s more of precaution for when you pass out soon.  Wouldn’t want you to go into shock.”  Lexi smirked, taking his empty tray to the sink before returning to pull the blankets up and over his shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything.”  Scott mumbled, eyes already sliding shut.

“Of course, we’re going to be spending at least two weeks together while you’re on bedrest to put on weight.  Just relax, you’re safe now.”  Lexi said, grabbing an extra blanket from another bed to drape over him before heading back to bed.

The next morning he woke up to the gently nudging of his shoulder.  His whole body felt heavy as lead, eyelids included as he cracked them open to peer at the doctor’s blurry outline.  The warm and gentle pressure of the blankets above him were pulling him back into the dark abyss of sleep as the doctor laughed above him.

“Come on sleepyhead, I already let you sleep in.”  Lexi chuckled, pulling down the blankets until they were bunched around his lap to set his tray of breakfast down.

Suddenly his stomach rumbling and a new healthy dose of hunger shocked him back to consciousness.  The unfamiliar sensation made him squirm in discomfort for a moment before grabbing the spoon off the tray to start in on the cereal in front of him, taking slow sips of the juice as well as the pills beside it.

“Did you feel hungry this morning?”  Lexi asked, adjusting the curtains on the window behind him to block sunlight but allow him a view to the outside. 

“Yeah, it was odd, feeling it that strong again.”  Scott explained, sipping the rest of his juice.

“That’s good, do you need to use the bathroom?”  Lexi asked, taking the tray from him as he finished.

“Yeah, can I get some help?”  Scott asked, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks as she smiled and helped him to his shaky feet.

Robe on, she kept a gentle hand on the small of his back as well as one hovering in front of him just in case he lost balance.  She let him relieve himself, only checking the color to make sure he was hydrated before leading him briefly to a weight scale to get a baseline for how much he would need to put on.  At 6’1” and 122 pounds he was dangerously underweight and vulnerable to any stress on his system.

“You got a ways to go Scott, it’s a good thing you stumbled in here last night.”  Lexi said, gently easing him back into bed.

“I’ll, be sure to repay the kindness.”  He said, smiling tiredly up at the woman.

“Don’t worry about that just yet, why don’t you get some more sleep.”  Lexi said, tucking him in.

“Sounds like a plan.”  He yawned, settling back into the bed and blankets.

“Sweet dreams.”  Lexi chuckled, walking back to deal with the town’s people trying to get into the clinic this morning.

-

Three weeks later he was finally able to make his way around the clinic with minimal difficulty.  After putting on thirty pounds he felt stronger and healthier that he had ever felt in his life.  Healthy enough to start helping out little by little in the clinic with Lexi. 

She was a patient teacher, taking him through emergency first aid all the way to basic surgical skills as he healed.  That’s how he had gotten to know the people of Altoona.  Fixing their wounds one by one or even helping deliver a baby boy to a young couple.  For the first time in his life he finally felt like he had a family that he didn’t have to be afraid to care about. 

That’s how he found himself smiling from the front desk as Mrs. Langston stepped through the front door.  She had routinely stopped by the clinic in his first week in the town.  He had contracted an upper respiratory infection that while not being contagious, had taken what little energy and weight he had put on away from him. 

The fifty eight year old woman had been with him that first week while Lexi took care of other patients for the majority of the days.  Either bringing him homemade snacks, or just coming to sit and talk with him about events outside the clinic or just the local gossip of the town.  It was through her that he started to see the town in its full light.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Langston, what can I do for you?”  Scott asked, taking a sip of his water bottle, one of four he was required to drink throughout of the day.

“If you wouldn’t mind dear, I cut my arm on some glass I broke in the sink this morning.”  She said, gesturing to the red spotted towel pressed to her right forearm.

“Of course not, I believe you know the way to the table.”  Scott said, grabbing a small bag of supplies from the cabinet before settling in the seat across from the woman with a small table between them.

“How are you doing today?”  She asked, wincing slightly as he peeled the towel from her arm to reveal the quarter inch deep cut that ran two inches in length along the top of her wrist. 

“Not too bad, woke up to another two pounds put on for my bi-weekly check.”  Scott chuckled, spraying disinfectant into the cut before aligning the cut with a butterfly bandage or two.

“That’s wonderful Scott, I’m glad Lexi’s working her magic with you.”  Mrs. Langston said, watching him wipe the excess blood from the cut before rubbing an antibiotic gel over it and placing a gauze bad over the top. 

“Yeah, first time in my life I can look down and not see my bones.”  Scott said, smiling up at the woman as he finished wrapping her arm in an ace wrap.

“I’m sure you’ll catch some looks the first time you walk around town.”  She commented with a chuckle as they made their way back to the front desk.

“I’ll stick to healing first, that’ll be just five caps.”  Scott said, shaking his head with a grin as she laid the amount on the counter. 

“Well that’s a shame, the ladies in the boutique will be said to hear about it.  Have a nice day Scotty.”  She said, smirking as he blushed.

Shaking his head he went about cleaning up the table and disposing of the garbage in the back.  It wasn’t long before Lexi appeared from her short morning walk around the town to check on a few residents that had fallen ill and couldn’t make it to the clinic without tiring effort.  She smiled as she caught sight of her apprentice typing notes in her patient log before setting some caps in the clinic safe.

“Busy morning?”  Lexi asked, prompting the man to look up abruptly from where he sat in the desk chair.

“Not too bad.  Few hangovers, Mr. Henry checking in on his concussion, and Mrs. Langston with a laceration to her forearm.”  Scott listed off before closing the computer program and locking the terminal.

“I know I’ve told you this before, but I appreciate you being so open to helping me here.  It’s really been a big help to have a second set of capable hands with some of the things that go wrong in the wasteland.”  Lexi said, patting his shoulder before checking her hastily written out patient schedule for the day.

“I owe my recovery to you Lexi, it’s the least I can do to make your life a little bit easier.”  Scott said, smiling as the door opened behind the doctor.

“Ah, just in time Liam.”  Lexi said, leading the well-known wall guard to the back for his yearly checkup.

Scott smiled to the man as he passed, retraining his focus as the door opened again to reveal a dusty Latin man holding his right side and limping in.  Shaking his head, he got up to support the man’s right side as he guided him toward a private exam room in the back of the clinic.  Making sure to tell Lexi he would be busy for a good half hour, he made his way back to the man’s room, shutting the door behind him.

“I thought it told you to be more careful in the future Reyes, not less.”  Scott chastised, liberating the pained man of his jacket and blood stained shirt before adding his shoes, socks, and pants to the pile.

“I don’t exactly set out of get shot you know.”  Reyes whispered back, groaning in pain as he was pushed to lay on his back, feet support as Scott pulled out the table extension.

“You haven’t exactly chosen the safest occupation either, what did you carry this time?”  Scott asked, focusing on the steadily oozing gunshot wound in the man’s right side just below his last rib.

“Shipment of tech I lifted off of a sleeping brotherhood of steel paladin.”  Reyes groaned out as the man slid an IV into his wrist and set up fluids and a slow morphine drip.

“You need to stop that shit, the caps aren’t worth getting killed over you know.”  Scott said, dropping the bullet fragment he had pulled from the man’s side into a tray before setting to stitching the damage up.

“I know.”  Reyes sighed, relaxing as the pain medication worked through his system.

Scott studied the man’s guilty expression for a moment before wrapping a bandage tight to the wound.  It only took a few more minutes to fix the one in his thigh and calf along with the dark bruising and sun burns along the man’s back.  Dosing the smuggler with an extra syringe of med-x, he supported the man to one of the recovery beds.

“Thank you.”  Reyes mumbled, consciousness slipping moment by moment as the trauma and drugs took effect.

“Get some sleep Reyes, we’ll talk about your poor life decisions later.”  Scott whispered, tucking the man in after checking his wounds and IV one last time.

“Aye captain, there’s some of those mints you like in my pack, help yourself.”  Reyes mumbled, eyes finally slipping shut.

Sighing under his breath he set to work cleaning up the exam room before stowing the smuggler’s belongings in the locked trunk at the foot the patient’s bed after grabbing his mints of course.  Reyes was someone that he had gotten to know well in his three weeks in the clinic.  The man had made his way into the clinic at least one a week with serious injuries from his occupation. 

After a long talk one night when they were both on mandatory bed rest, and shameless flirting from the man, they had struck a good natured friendship when he had dropped the bombshell that he was straight.  The man had taken it in stride, as he had made the mistake of say that if he swung that way, Reyes would be his first choice. 

“How’s our regular doing?”  Lexi asked as he made his way back to the front desk to log the smuggler’s treatment.

“Sleeping off three gunshot wounds and some bruises.”  Scott said, settling in the second desk chair to begin typing.

“I feel like I should give him a frequent patient discount or something, but that would only encourage the behavior.  You’re doing well though, whatever your saying has him at least looking guilty when he comes in here hurt week after week.”  Lexi commented, taking a sip of her drink before settling back in the chair.

“If a few well-placed glares keep him from making a fatal mistake, then it’ll be worth it.  Are you loading me up with nutrient packs tonight?”  Scott asked, finishing his report before reaching under the desk to grab his water bottle.

“I thought it would be a good idea for you to finally get out of this clinic and see the rest of the town.  So Liam volunteered to take you to party night at the Roost.”  Lexi explained, referring to the weekend like drinking at the one bar in town. 

“Are you sure I’m ready, I mean…”  He started to ramble as the doctor cut him off.

“Stop it, you’re thirty plus pounds heavier that when you came in here and have filled in to the point that you can’t see your bones as vividly.  Trust me if Reyes is hitting on you as hard as he was before he knew you were straight you have something going for you in the looks department.  There’s a set of jeans, a button up and some real shoes in the closet that you can wear.”  Lexi explained, smirking up at him as he squinted at her.

“You’re trying to set me up.”  Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest as he sipped his water.

“I’m just trying to set you up for success, by the way make sure you grab contraception, just in case.”  Lexi said, laughing under her breath as Scott shot up from his chair.

“I’m going to go organize the bandages by color and size, away from here.”  He said, rubbing the blush on his neck before disappearing.

Eight hours later the evening had begun to set on Altoona.  Scott had been unceremoniously hauled out of the clinic for the first time since he had stumbled through the gates.  In the daylight the town was beautiful and vibrant with many people roaming around.  Liam had commented that he looked nice in the clothes the doctor had given him even though the shirt was still a little baggy on his frame. 

“Before we stop by the bar I thought you would want to get that cazadore nest cut.”  Liam said, gesturing to his outgrown hair.

“Oh, sure.”  Scott said, accepting the door being held open to him to the barber’s shop.

“Ah, so this is the young man that’s dropped into our little town.  Come sit, sit.  What can we do for you today?”  Suvi asked, gesturing for him to sit down.

The redhead was as vibrant as the town, her small shop homey.  The red and white trim that lined the walls all accented the silver chairs and mirrors that filled the main room.  She was one of the main scientists in the settlement that studied rocks, at least that’s what he knew from what Drack had told him over dinners back at the clinic. 

“So any requests?”  Suvi asked, spraying down his outgrown hair with some water.

“Whatever you think looks good I guess.”  Scott said, sighing deeply as she started to brush the tangles out of his hair.

Watching the woman work in the mirror, saw her pick up the scissors and start to trim the split ends before reaching to grab an electric razor.  The gentle humming of the machine thrummed against the back of his head as she trimmed the back of his head to one inch and the front to three.  Flinching slightly as, she blow dried it back to a feathery texture because of the conditioner in the water spray bottle.

Slowly bit by bit he started to smile at his appearance.  The once sharp lines of his face had filled out into full and healthy attributes.  The gel Suvi was working into his hair formed a gentle point in front to give him a handsome yet young look. 

“Wow.”  Scott whispered as Suvi removed the smock and lowered his chair.

“Knock them dead Scott.”  The woman said, patting his shoulder before going to grab a broom. 

“Don’t I need to pay?”  Scott asked, only receiving a shake of the head.

“First ones free for people that come out of Lexi’s clinic, but its 10 caps after.  Oh, and here, for the road.”  Suvi said, handing him a small tin of hair gel.

“Thank you Suvi, I appreciate it.”  Scott said, chuckling as Liam sighed dramatically and pushed him out of the door and toward the bar.

Walking into the bar he was met with kind stares and glasses lifted toward him before focusing back on their own conversations.  Sliding up to the bar Liam ordered two beers and he just took a moment to take in the unfamiliar scene around him. 

He’d never been in such a friendly setting before, at least since he had left the NCR.  But even back then life had been structured and political, always a fight to get to the top either in the military or offices.  Here it was just people enjoying a semi peaceful existence in the wasteland.  Every day he spent in the town just set his roots a little deeper in the ground.  Getting back to the NCR, or making caps became a distant memory as the guard pushed his beer into his hand.

“Lexi said you could have two, but do what you want, make some friends.”  Liam said, abandoning him to go dance with a brunet that was beckoning him to the dance floor.

Scott sighed, moving to take a seat in one of the corner booths, shyness getting the better of him.  Taking of sip of his blissfully cold drink, he lazily scanned around the club watching the residents entertain themselves or look at the dancing patrons.  He had zoned out for the better part of half an hour before a weight settled across from him.

The sight in front of him caused the ice cube he had been munching on to go uncomfortably down his throat.  A beautiful woman about his age sat across from him with short white hair framing her face.  She had a slightly serious expression, but also one of embarrassed shyness as she stirred her nuka cola. 

“So I may or may not have been dared to come over and talk to you.”  She said, smiling up at him with a just a glint of white teeth between her full lips.

“Oh, and here I thought you just came over because I looked lonely.”  Scott deadpanned, laughing under his breath as she relaxed in front of her. 

“My name’s Cora, I help train the wall guards under Drack and work with the plants in the greenhouse.”  Cora explained.

“Scott, I’ve been helping out at the clinic since it was hard for me to get around the first few weeks I was here.  And I wanted to give something back to Lexi since she helped me so much.”  Scott explained, taking a sip of his drink.

“So this is your first night out of the clinic?”  Cora asked is disbelief.

“Yeah, I was in a bad way when I stumbled onto your town, but I’m glad I did.”  He said, watching her nod.

“Hey, how about we take a walk.  I can show you to the town, and we can talk a little in a quieter environment.”  Cora proposed, gesturing to the bar owner setting up the karaoke stage.

“Why do I feel like I’m being used?”  Scott asked, standing up with a broad smile nevertheless to follow her out the front doors.

“Because my so called friends also bet that I couldn’t get you out of the bar.  But this isn’t for those reasons.”  Cora assured, threading her arm around his elbow to start leading him down the sidewalk. 

Scott spent the walk smiling until his face ached, swapping life stories with Cora as she showed him the town.  In half an hour he was antiquated with the town layout.  But the highlight had been the woman showing him the greenhouse.  It was breathtaking to was Cora walk around the plants and tell him facts, the way her beautiful brown eyes lit up in the most amazing way.

“Oh, sorry I’m rambling again aren’t I?”  Cora said, brushing her hair from the side of her face with an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t apologize, I like you talking about something you love.  It’s like you go into another world when you talk about the flowers.”  Scott said, smiling as she turned away slightly and blushed.

“You’re a sweetheart.”  Cora whispered, brushing against a mutated corn plant.

“No, I’m just an asshole that’s pushed everyone in my life away.”  Scott said, taking a deep shaky breath before looking back up to see her walking toward him.

“Don’t talk about yourself that way, you’re a good guy that just stuck in a bad spot.  Come here.”  Cora said, wrapping her arms around his middle to hug him tightly to her.

He felt something inside of himself crack as he buried his face into her shoulder and sobbed.  Her gentle hands rubbed circles in his back as she whispered calm reassurances to him.  They stayed like this for a few minutes before he pulled away, wiping his red eyes with his sleeve.  An embarrassed smile on his face as he shuffled in place awkwardly.

“Thank you, you didn’t need to do that.”  Scott whispered, internally melting at the gentle hand still on the small of his back.

“I wanted to, you seem like you’ve missed a few hugs in your life.”  Cora said, smiling as he nodded.

“More than a few, can you walk me back to the clinic?  I think my energy is gone for the day.”  Scott said, laughing under his breath as Cora snorted.

“Of course, did you have fun on your first real day in Altoona?”  She asked, accepting his open elbow to thread her arm through.

“Yes, I did, because of you mostly.”  He said, shivering slightly as the breeze that caught them as soon as they left the warm and humid greenhouse.

“Sweet talker, I enjoyed your company as well.  I’ve never really met someone like you before, even traveling here from the south.”  She explained, smiling as he unconsciously leaned into her warmth.

They arrived at the front steps of the clinic in the dark hours of the night.  Only the porch light and red neon sign lighting the small walkway.  They stood there in silence for a few moments, not wanting to be apart from one another’s company.  It was Cora that spoke up first, one hand coming up to cup his stubble covered cheek in her warm hand.

“Have a good night Scott, I’ll see you later I hope.”  Cora said, kissing his cheek lightly before pulling away and starting to walk back toward her home.

“You too, thank you.”  Scott said, smiling in such a goofy and boyish way that he could hear her laughing as he all but bounced into the clinic.

Riding the wave of euphoria, he walked back to change into a pair of shorts and a tank top for bed.  Making sure to check on Reyes who was still sleeping peacefully in his bed.  Dinner sitting finished on a tray table beside him and bandages changed by Lexi.  Content that his work was done for the day he slid into his bed and closed his eyes, one finger lightly tracing the lingering sensation of the woman’s kiss.

Blinking himself awake he raised a sluggish hand up to where his cheek idly stung.  Sitting up with a groan he heard the clink of a something metal hit the floor.  Looking down he saw a shiny metal spoon lying on the floor, barely noticeable with only the moonlight shining through the curtains.  Rubbing his eyes he just caught the subtle whimper of his name from a few bed downs across the alleyway of the room.

“Yes Reyes.”  Scott mumbled, shuffling tiredly over to the side of the man’s bed.

“Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom and you wouldn’t wake up…”  Reyes rambled as Scott lifted one hand to stop him.

“It’s alright, better to wake me up with table wear than have you tear something trying to move yourself.”  Scott said, peeling back his blankets and disconnecting his empty IV. 

Scott walked back to the bathroom to grab a wheelchair that had the bottom cut out so that Reyes wouldn’t have to stand up to do his business.  Parking it beside his bed, he gently transferred the smuggler from the bed to the chair.  Wheeling him over the toilet, he stepped out to give the man some privacy.

“Scott, I hate to ask for help…”  Reyes mumbled, body tired as he held some toilet paper in his hand.

“I’ve seen worse things than your ass Rey.”  Scott chuckled, helping clean the man before flushing the toilet and getting him back to bed.

“Thank you.”  Reyes said, wincing as he was hefted back into bed.

“Of course, how’s the side?”  Scott asked, hooking up a new bag of fluids to the man’s IV.

“Tender, but a lot better than it was at dinner.  You don’t need to waste another bag on me you know.”  Reyes voiced, sinking into the bed a little more as Scott tucked him in.

“We’ve talked about your wonderful sense of self-care before, so shut up.”  Scott said, wheeling the chair back to the bathroom.

“You have wonderful bedside manner.”  Reyes yelled.

“Goodnight Reyes.”  Scott called back, settling into his bed with a sigh.

“Night Scott.”  Reyes mumbled.

Waking up in the morning was a trial in itself as he felt his recovering body will for food and more rest.  He had somehow managed to bury himself beneath the blankets on his bed as well as his pillow, blocking out the encroaching sunlight.  He could dimly hear the sound of Lexi and Reyes talking near the smuggler’s bed, and smell the fresh pot of coffee brewing in the small kitchen.

Sighing deeply, he extracted himself from his bed all while trying to keep it looking semi nice.  Grabbing his clothes for the day he wandered into the patient bathroom.  Brushing his teeth, arranging his hair, and getting dressed he walked back out into the main recovery area, greeted by a smirk from the doctor and a medicated smile from the smuggler.

“Good morning, have a nice night?”  Lexi asked, sipping her coffee as she read a clipboard of medical notes.

“Yeah.”  Scott said, getting up to grab his own cup before returning to sit on the end of Reyes bed.  “Liam abandoned me as soon as I got a drink in my hand and then I went on a walk with Cora.” 

“A walk you say.”  Reyes said, lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yes, a walk around the town.  The most we did was kiss before we went our separate ways, besides I probably ruined it by telling too much of my past and crying on her shoulder.”  Scott mumbled, sipping his over sugared concoction he called coffee.

“Nonsense, Cora likes people that trust her with that sort of stuff.  I’m glad you made a friend on your first night out.  Better than Reyes here who ended up in the jailhouse the first time I let him out and about.”  Lexi said, smirking as the smuggler glared at her.

“That wasn’t my fault and you know it, stupid pool hustler.”  Reyes mumbled, crossing his arms as much as he could with the IV in place.

“Right, so does anything need done?”  Scott yawned.

“Not really no, the hangovers already tried this morning and all of the outpatients are doing much better.  You might have some free time today, after you eat your nutrient packs of course.”  Lexi explained as Scott groaned into his drink.

“Now that I’m no longer starving to death, those things taste like dirt and leaves smashed together by a mutant.”  Scott complained.

“I know, but it easier to put on the thirty pounds you have left that way.  It’s easier and faster than just feeding you four times a day and hoping to hit all the nutrient groups.  Just another month or two and you’ll be healthy enough to go on a normal meal plan.”  Lexi explained, getting up to walk to the kitchen to fetch both of their meals.

“I’m gonna be so fat.”  Scott mumbled causing Reyes to start laughing before devolving into groans of pain from disturbing his side.

Looking up with a smile on his face he patted the man’s blanket covered shin as he got his amusement under control.  He couldn’t deny that having friends like Reyes, Lexi, and Cora had done him good.  He was lighter in the troubles that used to affect him on a daily basis back in the pit.  Here he didn’t have to fear a bullet in the back for caring about someone.  On the contrary he would easily take a bullet for the people he had met here.

“You know if you ever want to bend that straight thing, I’m eternally available to you.”  Reyes said as Lexi came back, prompting a confused look from the physician.

“I don’t even want to know.  Here, eat all of it Scott.”  Lexi said, setting down the smuggler’s food on his tray table before setting Scotts in his lap.

What greeted him were three dark green blocks and two brown blocks each the size of two large burgers stacked on one another.  They were nutrient packs that each contained two times the needed calories for his desired weight.  So instead of getting the two thousand six hundred calories he needed, he was actually getting close to five thousand to pack on healthy weight to his emaciated frame.  The only downside was that packing that many veggies into a block that size made it almost uneatable because of the overwhelming taste of grass and vitamins supplements.

He looked like he was in pain as he ate it, taste buds rebelling against the unpleasant sensations crowding his mouth.  Reyes on the other hand look up at him almost guiltily as he ate his radstag burger and thin leafy green salad covered with ranch. 

He himself had been taken in by Lexi years ago when he had been shot in the chest and beaten badly by a band of raiders.  His subsequent days out in the scorching sun had taken its toll on his body and mind.  So when he had stumbled through the gates into Drack’s grasp, he had tried to weakly swing at his help.  Weak fist only being captured in the man’s hand as he carried him toward the clinic.  After those weeks in her care, Altoona had become a safe haven for him between jobs and travel in the wasteland. 

“Trust me it will be over before you know it, here have some of my ranch.”  Reyes said, passing over the half cup full of ranch.

“Thank you, I guess you would know better than I would.”  Scott mumbled, dipping a chunk of the block in the condiment.

“You’re doing fine, just focus on your progress.  Do you have plans for the day?”  Reyes asked, picking at his salad without much interest in the greens.

“Other than helping out here, no not really.  Why?”  Scott asked, coughing slightly as he forced down the protein blocks.

“Well, Lexi mentioned that I could walk around a little if I was up to it.  But I need a chaperone if I leave the clinic.”  Reyes proposed, winking at the unimpressed man.

“I’ll think about it.  How long is she making you stay this time?”  He asked, stacking his plates on top of the smuggler’s empty ones.

“She said I could be discharged tomorrow, but highly recommended that I stay the week to make sure my side doesn’t get reinjured too soon.  I think I’ll be taking that recommendation, that much I owe her for taking care of me.  And getting to see you for a whole week is definitely an added bonus.”  Reyes explained, prompting a snort from the man getting up gingerly to take care of their dishes.

“Flattery will only get you so far, get some sleep and we’ll talk later ok?”  Scott said, pulling the curtains to give the man some darkness.

“Sounds like a plan.”  Reyes yawned, settling back into his collection of pillows before lulling off to sleep.

Smiling to himself he went about washing their dishes in the sink.  He only had a few moments to go over his own thoughts before the voices of Lexi, Drack, and Cora pierced his concentration.  He could hear them out in the main lobby of the clinic talking idly about town affairs and guard assignments.  It made his tense body loosen just to hear the woman after last night. 

That is until he heard her ask if he was in the clinic.  It was at that moment that his internal panic decided to surface.  They had built a solid foundation for one of his first friendships and perhaps one of his first relationships.  With everything he was, he desperately didn’t want her to him weak like he was now. 

The night out had really pulled on his recovery and he had a feeling that Lexi had planned it that way.  He felt like he could sleep for most of the day with the energy of his body going to digesting the nutrient packs and dealing with the small walk that he had gone on last night.  His muscles were sore in a good way, but he was somewhat struggling to even wash the dishes in the sink.  Body on the brink of an exhaustion episode that had plagued his first two weeks of recovery. 

Placing the dishes on the drying rack and letting the water out of the sink, he slowly had his way to his private room in the back.  The only reason he had been sleeping in one of the recovery beds at night was because of Reyes and his need to be readily available if the man needed help like he had. 

His room on the other hand was a small ten by twelve foot space with a nice bed, dresser, and closet.  A worn area rug covered most of the concrete floor, enabling him to walk around barefoot without getting cold feet.  Replacing his pants with shorts and removing his shirt, he pulled the curtains on his lone window closed and settled into his bed. 

He had been slowly lulling off to sleep in the ten minutes that he had gotten before he heard footsteps approaching his door.  The old door slowly creaked open with a hum of recognition coming from the doctor as she closed the door behind her.  Kneeling beside his bed she gently laid a hand on his shoulder as he was facing the wall.

“Hey.”  Lexi whispered, watching him turn over and blink tiredly at her.  “How are you doing?”

“Tired, night out and the packs are kicking my ass right now.”  Scott mumbled in explanation.

“So this isn’t an escape tactic because you heard Cora asking if you were in.”  Lexi asked with a knowing smirk as Scott blushed and tried to turn away from her.

“No.”  Scott grumbled, lacking the energy to fight the arm the doctor had reached out to hold him from rolling over.

“Mhm, she wanted me to ask you if you would like to join her at the range later this afternoon.”  Lexi explained, mentally checking over his exhausted eyes as he nodded in agreeance.  “Alright, get some sleep and I’ll wake you up later if needed.”

He groggily woke up a few hours later, rubbing his eyes as the afternoon sunlight filtered through his open window.  The smell of food from the Roost blowing in with the breeze along with some dust.  Changing into a pair of pants and sturdier shirt, he made his way out of his room and into the recovery are where Cora and Reyes were engaged in a card game on his bedside table.  It was Reyes that looked up first with a knowing smirk.

“About time you woke up sleepyhead.”  Reyes said, voice clouded by the pain medication Lexi had no doubt pumped him full of for the afternoon and evening.

“Shush you, hey Cora.”  Scott said, dragging an rolling office chair over to the foot of the smuggler’s bed.

“Hey Scott, I almost thought I’d scared you away last night.”  Cora said, smiling warmly with no venom in the words.

“No, I’m just scared of messing up.  I don’t have much experience in making friends or relationships.”  Scott admitted quietly.

“You made friends easily enough with me.”  Reyes pointed out, perking up from is half asleep state.

“Aggressive flirting devolving into friendship does not count.”  Scott said, earning a grumble from the smuggler.

“Hey, you’re doing fine for where you came from Scott.  Besides you’re allowed to mess up in life.  That’s what makes it fun and memorable.”  Cora explained, leaning over to rub thread her arm around his back to allow him to lean into her.

Scott couldn’t find the words to speak, so he just nodded and accepted the friendly contact.  He felt like he was back in the NCR when he was just a young boy.  Sitting in his mother’s lap, watching people debate over the next candidate for president.  He had been sick that day, cuddled against his mother in a thick blanket. 

_“Perhaps one day you could grow up and try to be President Scotty, and help those that need it.”  His mother had said._

_“But I don’t have *cough* friends that would help me.”  Scott had replied, shaking under the force of his fever._

_“You’ll find some one day, and they’ll love you for you.”  Ellen whisper, kissing the top of his head._

“Scott, you ok?”  Cora asked, snapping him out of his memory that had caused tears to run down his cheeks.

“No, but I think it’s going to get better with you guys.  Thank you.”  Scott said, voice a little choked up as he let Cora hug him tightly for a few moments.

-

“You missed.”  Reyes said, reclined back in the lawn chair as he watched Scott drop the assault rifle he had been aiming to his hip to glare at him.

“You’re doing fine.”  Cora piped up from his other side, holding her own rifle.

“The last time I held a gun was a 10mm pistol that I carried when my father and I caravanned from the NCR.  I’m more of a hand to hand guy.”  Scott said, raising the rifle again.

Cora had proposed the range visit as a way to blow off steam, but had quickly turned it into a training session to teach him how to shoot and defend himself better.  So without a word she put her rifle down and walked over to adjust his stance.  Kicking his feet further apart, she lifted his elbow to support the rifle and made him open his chest.

“Deep breathe in, out, then shoot.”  She guided, standing off to the side.

Following her instructions he breathed in deep through his nose and let it out through his mouth before squeezing the trigger.  He still wasn’t all that used to the sudden pressure against his shoulder, so the flinch came naturally.  But what differed was the metal ting as the bullet met the third ring of the target just three inches above the center.

“Good job Scott.”  Cora commended, slapping his shoulder.

“7 out of 10.”  Reyes commented, smirking as the pair glared at him.  “What I’m an honest smuggler.”

“Yeah, sure you are.  Try it a few more times Scott.”  Cora directed, taking a drink of her water bottle as the man nodded and got into his stance.

Keeping Cora’s guides in his head, he breathed in between each of his shots.  In the end he successfully landed all of the shot on the target and even a few close to center.  It was a big confidence booster, knowing that he could at some level defend himself with a rifle.  It also came at the realization that he would need this skill when he inevitably went out into the wasteland for work. 

Whether or not he liked living solely in the safety of the town, he did need to get out into the wasteland and start working to bring in some caps.  Getting back to the NCR was fading from the forefront of his mind, but he still needed resources to make sure he was going to have a stable footing in life.  This would be a first step in gaining a necessary survival skill for the dangerous wasteland. 

A part of him felt fear in going out into such a turbulent world, not knowing who he could trust.  Becoming someone like Reyes that had to rely on secrecy to keep himself alive didn’t appeal to him.  He, despite his hurtful upbringing, wanted to help other people rebuild in the destruction of the world and make a life for themselves. 

“Oh no he’s getting the thinking look again.”  Reyes teased, wincing slightly as he adjusted himself in the chair, wrapping the blanket he had taken out with him tighter as the wind picked up slightly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out.  We should probably get you inside anyway.”  Scott said, unloading his rifle to give back to Cora.

“It’s ok, what were you thinking about?”  Reyes asked, grunting slightly as Scott lifted him into his wheelchair with Cora following beside them after locking up the weapons.

“Just what I’m going to have to do after a few months.  You know, getting back into the world and protecting myself and all that.”  Scott explained, shrugging his shoulders as he levered the man’s chair up onto the more even sidewalk.

“You could always go out with me your first few times.  Are you going back to the NCR soon after you’ve recovered?”  Reyes asked, abet a little shyly as if not wanting to hear the man’s response.

“I don’t think so, I like you guys and its hell to make that trip.  Besides I don’t even know if my sister is still there or would even want to see me again.  But I do need to start a life here and get a foundation under my feet if I want to stay here long term.”  Scott explained, earning nods from the pair.

“We’ll make sure you get started.”  Cora voiced, smiling kindly as she held the door open for the man to push the smuggler inside the clinic.

“But also make you dependent enough to stay here with us.”  Reyes mumbled, yelping indignantly and Cora slapped his arm.

“Hey now, even if the patient is an ass you can’t hurt them.”  Lexi chastised, folding the sheets and blankets she had had washed today.

“Oh he’s fine, nothing another needle wouldn’t cure.”  Scott said, smirking as Reyes gave him a threatened stare.

Scott laughed under his breath at the slight pout on the man’s face as he gently lifted him back into bed and under the warmed blankets.  Folding up the wheelchair to set in the corner by the others, he turned around to find Cora smiling at him shyly.

“Would you like to go get dinner tonight?”  Cora asked, glancing down at a crack in the floor.

“Um, sure I would like that.”  Scott said, following the woman after sending a glare to Reyes who catcalled after the pair.

They walked in comfortable silence, Scott accepting Cora’s silent question to thread her arm around his elbow and lean into his heat.  The town café came into view after a few minutes of walking.  The Nexus was a small ten table dinner run by a tall burly man with a gentle disposition called Jaal.  He and the two mothers that had raised him helped him run it. 

Cora led him to a table in the front of the restaurant just to the right of where they came in right by the window.  It didn’t take long for Jaal to come over, his large frame almost comical in his blue apron.  His smile seemed to light up the room and make anyone including Scott feel at home in the café.

“Good evening Cora, and…”  Jaal asked, glancing to the unfamiliar man across from her.

“Oh, I’m Scott.”  He said, smiling shyly as the waiter nodded.

“Good to meet you Scott.  Tonight we have a special of Brahmin chop with tato mash for fourteen caps.  What can I get started drink wise for you two?”  Jaal asked, digging his paper and pencil from his apron pocket.

“Just water please.”  Scott said, looking over his menu with the debilitating thought that he didn’t have a cap to his name right now.

It was something that he had given no mind to over the past month.  Having money in his pocket was a state he had never had to deal with back under his father’s eye and defiantly not in the pit.  So when Cora asked for a nuka cola and started looking over his menu, he couldn’t help but start feeling anxiety about asking the woman to pay for him to eat.

“I think I’m going to have the special.  What about you?”  She asked, closing her menu to look up at him.

“Um, I don’t have any caps on me.”  Scott whispered, hand coming up to try and stop the embarrassed flush from spreading up his neck.

“I know.  I took you out with the impression of paying for both of us so get what you want.”  Cora explained, smiling in an attempt to comfort that man.

“Oh, thank you.  You really don’t…”  Scott started to say as Cora waved her hand in dismissal.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.”  She said as Jaal came back with their drinks.

“Have you decided or do you need more time?”  Jaal asked, grabbing his paper back out.

“I think we’re good, I’ll have the special.”  She said.

“I’ll have the same, with a cup of the soup please.”  Scott said, stacking his menu on top of hers to hand to Jaal.

“Alright, I’ll get those out to you as quickly as possible.”  Jaal said, leaving the pair alone to go put the order into the kitchen.

“Thanks for teaching me at the range today, it was nice to spend time like that with friends.”  Scott spoke up, smiling as the woman in front of him chuckled.

“You really haven’t had anyone be nice to you in your life have you?”  Cora asked, reaching one hand forward to hold his nervous one.

“No, not really.”  Scott said quietly, smiling shyly at the comforting gesture. 

“Well what if I told you that I think you’re really cute, sweet, and are one of the best people that I have met in my life.  And that all I want to do is make you realize that.”  Cora asked quietly, watching the man’s start to widen.

“You really think that I’m those things?”  Scott said in disbelief.

“Of course I do, you’re a great guy despite what you’ve been through.  I think you just need to realize that.”  Cora pushed, rubbing her thumb over his wrist.

“I really like you Cora, and I just don’t want to mess it up with that past.”  He said, almost hanging his head in self-imposed shame.

“You’re such a sweet heart, don’t worry about that stuff.”  Cora said, lowering her head slightly to get a look at his sad but hopeful eyes.

Looking up he couldn’t help the internal pull that told him to pull away before he got in too deep and hurt someone like Midea said he would.  He wasn’t raised to care for others, he was raised to look out for himself and his survival with the least amount of threat in that path.  Having an emotional attachment was a direct threat to that survival and he didn’t know if it would be a good idea to put such an understanding woman through his mental disruptions.

“Scott, stop thinking.  Just go with what you want.”  Cora said, clearly and concisely enough to crack him out of his thoughts.

“I want…you.”  Scott whispered, looking up as the anxiety faded from his chest and he relaxed in her hold.

“Then let’s try this.”  Cora said, smiling warmly as she reached her other hand over to cup his cheek.

“Ok, thank you.”  He said, taking the hand on his cheek into his other hand to squeeze it in reassurance for himself and her.

They both smiled at each other for a few moments before Jaal came and dropped their food off with a knowing smile on his face as he left the two.  Cora laughed under her breath as she audibly heard his stomach growl at just the look and smell of the food in front of him.   It didn’t take him long to work through his meal with them trading small talk between bites.  Cora paid the bill and they left hand in hand later that evening after desert. 

Cora ended up dragging him to her home at the edge of the settlement away from the main strip.  The two story, three bedroom, two bath house was amazing to him.  The warm tones of flowers in several different vases welcoming him to her home.

“Wow, this is…”  Scott mumbled, toeing off his shoes to accept the woman’s hand to lead him toward the bedroom in the back.

“This might be moving too fast, but…”  Cora said, trailing a hesitant hand over his chest.

“I trust you Cora, but I’ve never really done anything.  But I hear you’re a good teacher.”  Scott said, smirking as she snorted in amusement.

“We’ll see mister.”  Cora whispered, trailing her hand down to the hem of his shirt.

Hours later they both laid in her soft bed, him nuzzled into her side after they had cleaned up in the shower.  He hadn’t felt this loved since before his mother had passed away, and he couldn’t be happier than to have the feeling back.  With the gentle fingers carding through his hair and thoughts quiet for once, he was in heaven.

“You’re so adorable.”  Cora whispered as he leaned toward the contact of her hand.

“Don’t tell the raiders.”  Scott mumbled, eyes closed as his breathing started to even out.

“Fine I’ll tell Rey instead.”  She said, smirking as she felt him frown into her side.

She couldn’t tell what his intelligible mumbling was as he curled impossibly closer to her.  All she could feel was the conflicted smirk on her bare side.  Smiling to herself she pulled the blankets up and over his shoulders before going back to her previous petting of his scalp.  It was nice to see him this relaxed.

Having seen him come in that first night, sitting on top of the wall as Drack all but hefted the malnutrition stricken man into the clinic.  He had been shaking and terrified out of his mind that night, she had seen it in his defensive posture and darting eyes.  She had been one of the first people to volunteer to look after him at night when he was still too out of it to remember anything much less anyone. 

She’d watched him recover slowly under the watchful eye of Lexi, but hadn’t actually seen him come out of the clinic until that first night they had officially met in the bar.  Gaining weight had main him gain confidence and some striking good looks.  But it was still very apparent that his mental state had yet to get on track with the rest of his body.  She couldn’t blames him though, being a slave for a decade would take a toll on anyone. 

It was nice on the other hand to see him slowly coming out of his shell though.  Tentatively trying to get closer to her, Reyes, and the town like a frightened animal.  It was all they could do to just hold out the hand of food to coax him further out of it.  Having him curled up to her side now, small snores and ghosting breathe gently tickling her side.  It made her heart melt that out of everyone he had met in the town, he had chosen her to trust with his most vulnerable moments.

She was broken out of her thoughts by a knock at her door downstairs.  Gently coaxing Scott to cuddle into one of her pillows while she slipped out of bed and into her pajamas before walking downstairs.  Opening her door she was met with the tired expression of the town doctor, dressed in her causal wear with her lab coat over the top. 

“Is Scott with you?”  Lexi asked, accepting Cora’s invitation to come into her home and out of the windy night.

“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.  I’m sorry, I should have let you know.”  Cora explained, hanging her head slightly.

“That’s alright, he’s obviously well enough to have some fun.”  Lexi said, smirking as she gestured to the small bruises lining her collar. 

“I, um…”  Cora mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck as a blush spread up her cheeks.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.  I had a feeling you two would hit it off sooner or later.  That’s why I wanted to release Scott from the clinic, knowing that he has a safe place with you.”  Lexi offered, smiling as the woman in front of her looked at her with an expression of surprise.

“Are you sure?”  Cora found herself asking.

“You two are at the very least committed friends, and at the most committed partners trying for a future together.  Being a part of his larger recovery is going to be a very important trust building exercise for him.  I want you to be the one he sees as a safe space to go to, and I want you to build your relationship as he heals.”  Lexi explained, smiling warmly.

“Ok, I’ll tell him in the morning.  Thanks Lexi.”  Cora said, moving forward to hug the older woman lightly.

“Of course hon, make sure he checks in with me once a week and I’ll send over some nutrition packs.  Have a nice night.”  Lexi said, taking her leave with a smile.

Smiling to herself, she walked back up to her bedroom after locking the front door.  She found Scott in the same positon he had left him in, face smashed into one of her pillows.  Slipping out of her clothes, she gently took the pillow he was holding back for her head as she placed herself close enough that he went back to his initial position nuzzling into her side.  Taking one last look at his content expression she let her own eyes close to settle into a comfortable sleep beside him.

-

Scott lazily wandered back to consciousness that next morning.  First noticing the warm, soft sheets surrounding his bare body.  Then the other bare body radiating warmth beside him.  And finally the distant rustling of the morning in the town.  Brahmin baying, stores opening, and people waking up to another day in the wasteland.

Cracking his eyes open he groaned at his stiff muscles protesting every movement.  For one panic stricken second he didn’t know where he was, wrapping his arms around a stranger as they were both as bare as the day they had been born.  But in a crash of thoughts and memories he recognized the lean but muscular form of Cora under his head.

She was still sleeping peacefully, one arm lazily wrapped around his shoulders content with half of his weight draped over her side.  Smiling in content, he imagined every morning starting like this, happy in his partner’s arms.  If someone would have told him a few year ago that he would have this, he would have asked for some of what they were using to get to that mental state.

“What did I tell you about thinking mister?”  Cora mumbled, the hand that was lazily set on his shoulders wandering up to brush through his messy hair, finger tips just slightly massaging his scalp.

“Getting me to stop thinking is about as possible as getting Drack out of that plaid jacket.”  Scott said, leaning into the soothing contact.

“Good point, how are doing?”  She asked, hand rubbing down the nape on his neck and to his broad back. 

“This is how I want to wake up every morning.”  Scott said, moving slightly to allow his lips to brush the woman’s jawline.

“Well, Lexi did come by last night after you fell asleep for the night.  She decided that it would be beneficial to you to be released from the clinic to complete the rest of your recovery here if you wanted to.  With weekly checkups of course.”  Cora explained, watching his facial expression shift between emotions. 

“I know we said we’d try this, but do you really see yourself with me in a long-term sense?”  Scott asked, muscles in his back tensing under her gentle hand.

“I really do Scott, and if you need reassured every day then I’ll do it.”  Cora whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.”  Scott replied, hugging her tightly.

“Of course, now we should probably get up.  I have guard duty in a few hours.”  Cora said, reluctantly pulling herself out of bed much to her partner’s displeasure. 

They both dressed for the day, a worker having left Scott’s belongings just inside her doorway.  After having breakfast they made their way to the main gate where Drack was already talking with Liam as they supervised the delivery of a food shipment. 

Just as he was about to kiss Cora’s cheek to go check in with Lexi at the clinic, he just caught sight of two of the traders.  A scared man and woman both looking at him predatorily.  And in a moment of complete panic he recognized the features of Bone and Jackson, two of the raiders that kept the pit slaves in line.  Without warning bone shoved Cora to the ground and grabbed him by his throat, cutting off his oxygen in one swoop.

“Stand down, before I put you down.”  Drack growled, watching the kid helplessly paw at the woman’s hand as he held his gun to her head.

“If you did that then you would have the whole pit on this town.  This, is property of Ashur, and we were sent to find it.”  Bone said, throwing Scott to the ground before placing a kick into his ribs.

“He’s a citizen of Altoona, and he will not be leaving with you.”  Drack said, mentally counting the two raiders as well as the three other men they had brought with them.

“Look, you seem like a nice guy, love this little town.  Let us take him back where he belongs and we’ll leave your town in peace.  Pretty good outcome considering what could happen.”  Bone pushed, smirking at the hesitation in the man’s eyes.

“Drack, just let them take me.  Don’t get anyone hurt on my account.”  Scott coughed, wincing as Jackson hauled him to his feet to lock hand cuffs tightly around his wrists.

“I would listen to the slave.”  Jackson said, dragging a slave collar out of his bag as Scott flinched away from the painful device.

The slave collar just didn’t have the ability to blow his head off.  It also had an electric charge attached to a needle in the back of the collar.  Over time the needle pressed into the name of one’s neck and if the raider deemed it necessary, could discharge the charge nearly fatally to the wearer.  Some of his early acts of defiance had led to him wearing and experiencing the pain of the collar first hand.

“Wait, how much is he worth to this Ashur?”  Drack asked, giving a furious Cora a look to stand down in that face of her friend suffering.

“Plenty, why what did you have in mine sheriff?”  Bone asked, Jackson wrestling Scott into the collar behind her, immediately making him go submissive once it was on and the raider’s hand on the remote control.

“We could pay you for his value, or pay for you to just tell this Ashur that you found him dead.”  Drack pressed, wincing in sympathy as Jackson forced Scott into submission with one slight shock from the collar.

“Ashur did put a price of 10,000 caps on his head just in case we had the opportunity to make a beneficial arrangement to get rid of him.  But we’ll have to have 13,000 to cover our expenses for the trip, if you really want him that is.”  Bone explained, smirking at the man.

“Deal, release him and I’ll lead you to your payment with the promise that you’ll stay away from Altoona.”  Drack said, watching the raiders smile as Jackson removed the collar and handcuffs, shoving Scott to the ground.

It only took a few minutes for the raider to leave with their caps.  Lexi, who had been watching from the door of the clinic had immediately hauled Scott into one of the private clinic rooms to get him away from the citizens of the town.  Drack and the mayor were arguing profusely at the immense amount of caps spent just to save someone who had only been a part of their town for a little more than a month.

She had slipped away from the venomous debate to the clinic.  Knocking lightly on the room Scott and Lexi were in.  Hearing a muffled come in, she gently opened and closed the door behind her.  What first caught her sight was not what she had expected.  Instead of shaking in fear like she thought he would be, Scott was silent and still, staring a hole into the floor beneath him. 

“Scott?”  Cora whispered, watching the tense expressions of both Reyes and Lexi who sat on either side of the emotionless man.  “Talk to me hon.” 

“You should have just let them take me.”  Scott whispered, voice choked with anger and emotion.

“Why in the hell would we let that happen?  We care about you.”  Cora said, frowning as he flinched away from the hand she reached out to set on his own.

“I’m not worth getting anyone in this town hurt or worse, and definitely not worth that many caps to save my sorry ass.”  Scott said, balling his fists angrily as tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Scott you are a member of this community, don’t you dare think for one second that you aren’t protected under that.”  Lexi said, making sure that he was listening.

“And besides, didn’t you tell me that caps didn’t matter in the face of a life.  Pieces of metal aren’t more important that you.”  Reyes pushed from his other side.

Scott couldn’t find any words, tense form crumbling under the weight of the traumatic episode and the emotion of his past life.  Lexi moved to the side to allow Cora to take Scott’s other side as he started sobbing.  Both of their hearts sank as they watched the man that had made so much progress over the past month lose it all in one moment. 

“Shh, it’s alright.”  Reyes whispered, hugging his right side tightly while running a comforting hand up and down Scott’s back.

It took nearly half an hour to get the man to work through the breakdown.  He ended up half asleep leaning against Reyes chest as Cora left to grab them something to eat.  The Latin man gently dabbed his swollen red eyes with a soft towel, taking care to avoid the more tender areas where the man had been wiping his nose raw.

The smuggler barely lifted his protective gaze from the man as the door slowly opened to reveal a very concerned Drack.  The man had stripped down to just his t-shirt and cargo pants, taking away the extra reinforced flannel jacket he wore on patrol.  He sat down on Scott’s left side and quietly watched the pair interact, heart pulling at the beyond emotionally exhausted young man.

“Scott, I’m sorry we even let them in.  You didn’t deserve to feel that fear again, and we like you here.  You’re a member of this community now, and will be protected as such.  Don’t worry about the money, just worry about getting better.”  Drack gently explained, putting a fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“Thank you, as much as I say I would have gone to keep this place safe, I didn’t want to.”  Scott said, voice rough and quiet as he cracked his eyes open.

“Look I’m proud that you care about the people here enough to sacrifice yourself to protect them, but none of us could live with ourselves if we had let them drag you back to that place.  You have a place here Scott, don’t forget that.”  Drack pushed, prompting the man to look up at him in surprise.

“Thanks Drack, that mean a lot to me.”  Scott said, a small smile slipping onto his face for the first time that afternoon.

It was in that moment that Drack felt a certain fondness for the boy.  Having heard from Lexi about what his father had done to him at such a young age.  It made his normally stern demeanor melt as Scott looked at him like that father he had always wanted to just say he was proud and that he cared about him.

“I know kiddo, now ignore this little hiccup in your recovery and get back out there.  I’ll see you later, Cora said something about dragging you to practice again.”  Drack said, ruffling the boy’s hair before chuckling and letting himself out.

“Can I stand up now, I think my arm died.”  Reyes groaned, extracting himself from under Scott to stretch his sore muscles, nearly collapsing when the threat of a calf cramp came and went.

“Sorry about that, you were a very comfortable person to cry on.”  Scott said, laughing under his breath as Cora opened the door with three trays of food stacked on her arms.

“Never heard that one before, you feeling better?”  Reyes asked, grabbing his tray from Cora before settling back in his spot.

“Yeah, everything considered, could be worse.”  Scott mumbled, picking at his food with little interest. 

“It’ll get better.”  Cora urged, watching him with concern deep in her features that had him recoiling and staring down at his food.

All of the emotional turmoil he had went through in the day had gone straight to his head and his stomach.  He could feel a slight headache spreading through his temples, and a nauseous feeling settling deep in his stomach.  Setting the tray on the ground he leaned forward and held his head in his hands, breathing roughly through his nose as he tried to quell the bile rising in his throat. 

He could feel a pair of concerned stares burning into him.  He shouldn’t be here, he should be back in the pit where he belonged, where he knew how to survive.  Realistically if he stayed here he would only cause more trouble for the town in the long run.  Plus it wasn’t fair to take up as many resources as he had been.  Especially Cora and Reyes, they didn’t need someone with constant mood swings and debilitating baggage.  They were both good people, they would find someone else.

“I’m gonna lay down for a little bit, not feeling the food.”  Scott said, gingerly lying down on the bed below him.

“Ok, call if you need us.”  Cora said, pulling a blanket over his form before taking her leave with Reyes. 

He feigned sleep until it was well into the hours of the night when everyone in the town had turned in for the night.  Quietly slipping out of his bed, he made his way back to the room he had had in the clinic.  Grabbing his bag still filled with the supplies he had scavenged the night he had come in, he made his way to the front of the clinic. 

Grabbing some medical supplies and a rifle from the lockers that Drack kept in the back office he carefully slipped out of the back window of the clinic, not trusting the main door.  Pulling the coat hood up and over himself he made short work of slipping out of a hole in the fence that one of the dogs had dug out. 

Avoiding the wall guards and spot lights, he made his way to the main road and started to head east, putting as much distance as he could between him and his past before they figured out he was gone.  He had to make his own life, without caring about anyone enough to hurt them again.


	2. Routine

-

“Holy shit, look who’s alive.”  Hancock exclaimed, raising a glass of questionable substance in welcome.

Scott smirked in response, dropping his small pack to the ground and settling in the worn out couch with a huff.  The furniture creaked in response, struggling to hold the bulky man in his heavy leather armor draped over a set of old army fatigues he had found in an old base.  Throwing his classic yellow pilot helmet he had painted black with a few blue stars on top of his pack, and accepted a drink from Fahrenheit.

“Takes more than a nest of death claws to get rid of me you old bastard.  I’ll take the payment.”  Scott said, savoring the smooth drink as he watch the mayor nod and take out a worn bag of caps.

It had been three years of doing jobs in the commonwealth that had gotten him on good terms with the mayor of Goodneighbor.  The ghoul paid good for jobs that needed the special touch of an experiences mercenary and that’s what Scott had quickly become when he had stumbled on the city steps from his travels from Altoona.  Breaking the jaw of the loudmouth asking for insurance money had quickly earned him a few impressed stares on that first day.

“All four hundred.  That vault guy was looking for you again today.  He’s at the Rexford for the next few days, you should hear him out.”  Hancock proposed, dropping the eighty, fifty marked caps into hand.

“I thought he grabbed MacCready, why would he still need me?”  Scott asked, stowing the caps in an old lunchbox he head scavenged. 

“No idea, but I’m getting tired of him nosing around here looking for you.  So go tell him to fuck off if nothing else.”  Hancock said, gesturing him out.

“Fine, see ya mayor.”  Scott said, waving goodbye as he made his way down the steps toward the hotel. 

A few guards nodded at him as he walked past, having gain a sort of reputation in the commonwealth over the years.  He mostly worked small jobs against people that took advantage of others.  But every now and then he would pull a less than ethical job if the price was to his liking.  In three years he had almost 20,000 caps to this name.

But even with his wealth he hadn’t jumped to buy property in any of the settlement scattered around the area.  Some part of his felt anxious about leaving his stuff unguarded while he went out on jobs.  And he couldn’t afford to have too deep of roots if something went wrong and he needed to get out fast.  That and he couldn’t afford to form attachments to a town or its people again.

Pushing open the worn door to the hotel, he quickly sidestepped the man trying to see him chems to walk up to the front desk instead.  The woman greeted him with a frown not uncommon in this town.

“He’s upstairs, room two.”  She said, pointing to the stairs.

Nodding mostly to himself he carefully picked his way up the rotting stairs.  The hotel was dirty, but safe compared to many others in the commonwealth.  But with only two working rooms, it really didn’t pull in as much caps as others did.  Knocking on the door he waited with his hand close to the .44 on his hip, not willing to take chances with strangers.  He had plenty of new scars to remind him of that.

“Who is…oh I didn’t think I would see you.  Here come in please.”  The man said, gesturing for him to enter the sparsely decorated room.

The man was at least an inch or two taller than him, but held the same frame overall.  His brunet hair was styled back into a dapper look unlike his hair that was a dark blonde and freshly shaved out of annoyance of it getting stuck in his helmet.  The man’s blue eyes looked hopeful as he took as seat in one of the old wooden chairs. 

“It’s good to meet you, I’m Nate.”  The man said, smiling at the mercenary in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m Ryder.  Why did you want to meet?”  Scott asked, not daring to tell the man his real name up front. 

“Well I’m in need of an experienced mercenary to go after a man that stole my son and shot my wife.  And with clarity on that table, this man is involved with the institute.  What do you think?”  Nate explained, waiting almost anxiously for his response.

“The pay?”  Scott asked, mentally going over the job in his head.

Going after a revenge job often got messy in his experience.  But some part of him wanted to help the man that seemed so hurt and pained by what had happened to him.  And in a moment the downtrodden man in front of him perked up with the expression of an excited puppy just by the fact that he didn’t say no.

“Um, do you have a certain rate?”  Nate asked, smiling in hope.

“Usually three hundred to four depending on the difficulty of the job.  You don’t have to pay me until after it’s done.”  Scott explained, leaning forward causing the chair to creak.

“I’ll offer you six hundred for the whole mission, should take about a week in preparation, travel, and execution.”  Nate offered, digging into his bag that was sat at the edge of the bed.

“I think we have a deal Nate, I’m at your disposal.”  Scott said, smiling as he reached down into his pocket for a small worn notebook and a pencil to write down the job information.  

_Client-Nate_

_Job-Hunting of man said to have kidnapped the client’s son and murder of his wife._

_Time-One week_

_Pay-600 caps_

He liked the little notebook, it helped him keep track of what he had done over the past three years.  His finances and other miscellaneous notes also existing in the worn pages.  It was also a very persuasive tool to use against people that wanted to question his experience or high job rate.  Often without fail, showing them a few featured jobs got them to cough up the caps for whatever they wanted done.

“Do you mind traveling today?  I have a settlement up north that had most of my supplies before we head for Fort Hagen.”  Nate asked, digging through his bag of caps before holding out four 50 marked caps.

“Sure, no problem.  What is that for?”  Scott asked, checking to make sure the straps were tight on his pack after he grabbed his jacket from the main compartment.

“Some caps up front, to get in your good graces if nothing else.”  Nate said, waiting for the man to take them.

“No, I don’t accept pay until after the job is done.  One of my policies you could say.”  Scott explained, shrugging his jacket on before hauling his pack onto his shoulders.

“Oh, alright.”  Nate said, stowing the caps before picking up his own bag to start walking. 

It took them the rest of the day to make it to Nate’s settlement.  He had heard of Sanctuary coming up in the commonwealth, growing into a safe and prosperous settlement.  Some had even called it a better diamond city, and it brought a smile to his face having someone else challenge the city that had kicked him out after a few days.

So walking through the sturdy concrete walls guarded by barbed wire and guard posts every twenty feet of the wall.  The men stationed at the gate greeted Nate with wide smiles, as they waved the pair through.  Walking up the main road, he caught himself from gaping at the rebuilt homes, stores, and crops.  People lounging around peacefully like they weren’t living on the edge of the commonwealth.

“Hey Nate, found someone to replace me did ya?”  MacCready asked from a table at a little diner in the middle of the upper part of the town.

He had met with the other mercenary on a few different occasions, mostly just trading stories over drinking in the quiet of the VIP lounge.  The smaller man had been absent from Goodneighbor ever since being hired by Nate, and it seemed like a lot of people that joined up with the man ended up staying close to one of his many settlements.

“You wish, this is Ryder.  He costed more than you did.”  Nate said, smirking as he was pulled away by another woman of the settlement directing his attention to an issue.

“How have you been Ryder, it’s been a while.”  MacCready said, wincing slightly as he shifted in his seat.

“Eh, working as much as I can.  You stuck with him for a while.”  Scott commented, dragging his water bottle from his pack to take a long drink.

“Nate’s a good guy to work for in our line of work.  Pays well, takes care of you if you get hurt, and actually sees you as more than a gun he bought.  I imagined if he hired you then he’s finally going after Kellogg.”  MacCready said, lifting his arm to scratch at the back of his head, shirt rising high enough for Scott to spot the dull white bandage wrapping around his abdomen.

“So he might be surprised when I take my money and run after the job’s done.  Seems like most of you guys stuck around him.”  Scott commented.

“What’s with you and this not getting attached to anyone bullshit?  Sooner or later you’re going to have to put down roots and let someone or many people to take care of you.”  MacCready said, keeping his voice low out of respect for the other man.

“Because sooner or later someone is going to get hurt for being connected to me.”  Scott mumbled, eyes trained on a scratch in the table.

“Bet you a thousand caps that Nate changes your mind.”  MacCready said, smirking as the other mercenary gaped at him.

Nate wandered back over to slide into the booth beside MacCready, interrupting their conversation.  He looked between MacCready’s smug expression and Ryder’s suspicious one with cautious interest.

“So what do you think of Sanctuary, I assume it’s your first time here?”  Nate asked, trying to diffuse the tension between the pair.

“It’s a nice place, definitely a better community that diamond city.  When are we heading to the fort?”  Scott asked, hoping to discourage Nate from dragging him any further into making a connection to the town.

“Oh, um.  I was thinking about heading out the day after tomorrow.  I thought you might want to get some rest, Hancock mentioned that you have been doing jobs back to back for the last week.  Plus I apparently need to help fix the water pump here.”  Nate said, smiling as the settler that ran the diner set down three nuka colas for them.

“Whenever works, you have me for a week.”  Scott said, taking a sip of the soda, savoring the fact that it was cold.

“Great, have you eaten yet Mac?”  Nate asked, leaning his shoulder against MacCready’s before running the top of the mercenary’s hand with his.

“No, was waiting for Mary to cut up the Brahmin for dinner.  Feeling like a burger today.”  MacCready said, turning his hand to intertwine their fingers.

Scott suddenly felt like he was intruding on a personal moment for the pair.  He had known the blurry details of how the mercenary had lost his wife, and now knew that the vault dweller was in more or less the same boat.  If the stubborn mercenary had found a relationship with Nate, then what couldn’t this man do.

“I’m gonna go take a walk around, is there a place that I can stay for the night, set my stuff?”  Scott asked, standing up startling the pair of men out of their moment.

“Yeah, there is a bunkhouse just up the road, unless you would feel better in my house.  I have a spare room, and Mac doesn’t snore that much.”  Nate explained, clearly confused at the man’s continued actions to put distance between them.

“The spare room sounds good, if you don’t mind.”  Scott said, shouldering his pack.

“Of course not, here I’ll show you.”  Nate said, leading the man to his own home in the town. 

He was lead to the back right room of the house.  The room was sparsely decorated with most of the contents stored in the back corner of the room.  He could see a recently repaired crib, rolled space ship rug, a changing table, and a few boxes of toys and clothes.  The other side of the room closer to the door had a metal framed bed and a nightstand, clearly just a temporary guest room.

“Are you sure you want me to stay here?”  Scott asked tentatively.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.  Feel free to walk around town or settle in for the night.  Dinner’s cheap at the diner if you want it.”  Nate said, smiling as he took his leave.

Scott cursed under his breath as he set his pack down on the bed.  He didn’t set out to be awful person to his clients, but taking the steps to distance himself from them had ensured his survival.  Having seen his fair share of other mercenary get taken down by clients they trusted too much.  So with a heavy sigh, he opened his bag to pull out a smaller duffle.

Piling the extra items he had picked up from some of his recent missions into the bag, he grabbed the bag and walked out of the house toward the market stalls.  He hadn’t had the chance to sell it off in Goodneighbor, to focused on getting on with his latest job.  Well, his latest in a string of jobs he had been doing back to back.  In his mind it was a way to keep his thoughts off the damning loneliness that he trapped himself in.  As long as he had bullets flying at his head he could ignore the thoughts going on inside of it. 

“Hello sir, could I interest you in a new set of armor today?”  A well-dressed ghoul asked as he walking into the large barn like structure that housed most of the market tables.

“No thank you.”  Scott said, smiling nevertheless as he headed to the general merchant.

“What can I do for you?”  An elderly woman asked, sitting forward on her stool with a kind smile.

“I have some stuff to sell and I need to pick up stimpacks, .44 caliber, and some thread if you have it.”  Scott said, hefting the duffle onto the table beside the counter. 

“Wonderful, I was just about to ask some of the scavengers to bring in some new stuff.  Old stock was getting a little stale.”  The woman said, eyeing the small collection of goods with a smile. 

Counting the scrap items first, the woman piled them into a crate and set it on the bottom shelf.  Scribbling a brief tally of how many caps the scrap were worth, she moved on to the more interesting good the mercenary had brought her.  A heavily modified laser rifle that had come off a dead gunner, a few complete sets of combat armor, and four fusion cores that were mostly charged. 

“So I have eight stimpacks, three boxes of 24 rounds of .44, and a small spool of thread.  That would add up to around 490 caps, minus the 120 for the scrap, 370.  And I would be willing to offer you 1000 caps for the rest of the lot bringing our total to 510 going your way.”  The woman offered, smiling warmly as he sat back on his heels and gave her a long look.

“200 for the scrap at a minimum, there’s copper in most of it.  Four fusion cores charged to 90 percent are worth at least 400.  That rifle is easily 550 with the scope and beam splitter attachment.  And the armor is 150 a set and I have three with minimum scratches.  So that total is 1300 minus the 400 caps that stuff is actually worth is 900 caps coming my way.  That or I have someone in Goodneighbor that actually pay me what they’re worth.”  Scott said, raising one eyebrow in a silent challenge to the woman.

“You have a lot of balls for some mercenary only got in here because the boss hired you.”  The woman said back, voice low and dangerous.

“Just give me the 200 for the scrap, or give it back.”  Scott said, packing the goods back into his duffle.

“Here’s hoping a yao guai tackles you off that high horse, don’t come back until you get a better attitude.”  The woman said, setting four fifty marked caps into his hand before waving with a smirk.

Scott kept his face blank as he hefted the bag strap over his shoulder and starting walking back towards Nate’s house.  Ignoring the piercing stares of the other merchants and patrons of the market.  Feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck at the blatant fact that he was a stranger in their town.  If the woman decided to start something, the others wouldn’t think twice about joining in to run him out of town.  Whether or not Nate had brought him here.

Squinting into the light of the sunset, he made his way to Nate’s house.  Sparing one look at the diner across the street, just to the left of the yellow house turned into a workshop, he saw Nate and MacCready enjoying a meal.  Smiles plastered on their faces as other members of the town celebrated another hard day of work. 

He on the other hand tried to quash the suffocating feeling of loneliness and quietly opened the door.  Setting his duffle down by his main travel bag, he turned around to shut the wooden door to the guest room.  Unbuckling his leather armor, he slipped out of his fatigues and folded them into a pile on the floor.  Lying down in the thin blankets of the bed, he sighed and let himself fall asleep, secretly wishing he had just stayed in the VIP room Charlie had let him rent after MacCready had left.

_Scott whimpered, curled up in a ball at the base of the staircase.  The steady creaking of the wooden floor upstairs telling him that his father was still looking for him, the irregular stomps denoting that he was fresh off a trip from the local pub.  He hadn’t meant to throw his baseball and have it break the window of his father’s shop, he was just playing._

_“Where are you, you waste of shit?”_

_The drunken growl had Scott tucking himself even further if possible into the corner.  He was small for his age, a shrimp of a seven year old that hadn’t filled out like some of his other classmates.  If only his mother would come home once and a while from the lab, put away her test tubes and try to stop her husband from beating the living shit out of her son.  And with his twin sister off debating politics with the Junior NCR Corp, no one could protect him from the real enemy at home._

_“That was a new window, you’re gonna fucking pay kiddo.”_

_He glanced around looking for any escape from the inevitable.  The windows of the basement were still out of reach from his shorter form.  And fighting back only made the end result that much worse for him in the end.  A slam of the basement door brought his attention back as he looked up to meet the grizzled smirk of his father._

_“How did I and your mother make such a fucking coward like you?  Sara’s off making a real future for herself and you’re here breaking my god damn windows.”  His father yelled, grabbing him by the scruff of his ratty shirt._

_“I’m sorry dad.”  Scott whimpered, bracing for the inevitable._

_“Tell that to the belt I’m gonna ream your ass with.”  His father growled._

_“No dad, no…”  Scott screamed._

Scott flailed in the sweat soaked blankets of the bed, trapping his body.  Landing on the hard floor with a grunt he shoved the offending fabric off himself and pressed his back against the cold metal of the wall.  Instantly grounding him to the panic bubbling in his chest.  It was still dark outside, only a slight sliver of moonlight keeping the room from being pitch black. 

Dragging on his shoes, pants, holster, and an old sunset sarsaparilla t-shirt, he quietly opened the door to his room.  Taking a brief glance at a sleeping MacCready draped over Nate, both snoring peacefully.  Sighing deeply, he made his way out of the house and out towards the back of the settlement.  There he found an old worn trail to up into the woods.

The last thing he expected was to find a giant metal platform leading to a long abandoned vault.  Choosing to ignore his racing thoughts as he took a seat on ledge overlooking the settlement.  His own memories burned in the back of his mind, threatening to break his fragile façade of having his life together. 

MacCready was right about him.  If he didn’t get over viewing distance as one of the most important constants in his life, he wouldn’t last long if things went south in the wasteland.  It was rare, but some jobs got him injured and some clients left him in a puddle of his own blood while they took the loot and ran. 

Seeing the pure fear in the eyes of those people as he came stomping back to their home or hideout with his pistol drawn was the only thing good about those failed jobs.  The more jobs he did, and the more stories circulated about what he did to back stabbers had started to deter anyone else from doing it do him.  But he still feared deep down in his mind that the one time he let his guard down it would be his last.  Maybe that just came from being betrayed by the one figure that was supposed to protect him.

“You mind some company?”  A voice said behind him, almost causing him to fall off the concrete ledge scrambling for his pistol.

Looking back his startled gaze met Nate’s kind, smiling one.  The man was dressed in a pair of loose pajama pants and a thin tank top.  With a small nod, he scooted over to allow the man a spot on the relatively clean part of the ledge.

“Sorry if I woke you up.”  Scott said quietly, gaze trained on the lights shining from the red rocket gas station in the distance.

“Don’t worry about it, I was always a light sleeper.  Now, without the mercenary mask, from one human being to another.  Are you ok?”  Nate asked, looking at him with an expression that reminded him painfully of the one Lexi had given him the first time they had talked about his past.

“Would you believe me if I said no?”  Scott asked, dropping his gaze slightly to the ground below the ledge.

“Considering the multiple attempts to avoid forming any attachment here, the back to back jobs I here you run, and the creaking of that bedframe from the nightmare I assume you had.  No I wouldn’t believe that you’re alright.  But that’s not the end of world, we’re all capable of healing.”  Nate explained, patiently waiting for the boy to meet his eyes.

“If I get close to people they’ll get hurt.”  He whispered, staring blankly at the horizon.

“Has that actually happened?”  Nate asked, moving one hand to idly tap his fingers between their thighs. 

“No, but it could.  Furthermore if people get close then they can hurt me, so why take the chance?”  Scott asked, internal anger causing him to dig his nails into the palms of his hands.

“It is a valid question in the Commonwealth.  But I would like to try and convince you that we’re different.  Rather have you safe and warm in town than sleeping with one eye open in a different place every week.  Where do you go if someone betrays you on a job?”  Nate asked, watching the shift change in the settlement.

That question makes the running thoughts in Scott’s head grind to a startling halt.  Memories of fear and confusion greeted him as he recalled all the times he had been injured by the people that had hired him.  Left bleeding to death in a Fens alleyway while ferals stalked the streets, the footsteps of his employer fading on their way back to diamond city.

A painful fall from a broken overpass after his client had been a gunner in disguise.  Leading him to their hideout under the impression of taking out the camp.  The gunner lieutenant had laughing in his face before putting two in his leg and trying to grab his pack.  Scrambling out harm’s way had earned him a landing in some mutated thorn bush and a painful limp back to Goodneighbor.  Paying Daisy the caps he had saved to eat that night to pull the thorns out of his body and wrap his knee.

 “I’m usually lucky enough to get myself out.”  Scott choose to answer with, hanging his head like a shamed child.

“I’ll be the first to tell you that luck is an ever changing demon.  But on a more serious note, that’s not going to happen with me.  As long as you keep me safe, I’ll return the favor when we’re out there.  And when this is all over you’re welcome here anytime if you need supplies, sleep, or safety.”  Nate said, gently patting the boy’s back.

“Thank you, you’re son’s lucky to have a dad like you.”  Scott said, frowning as he felt the man beside him tense.

“If we find him, I don’t know.”  Nate said, taking his turn to stare off into the distance, moon revealing the moisture collecting in his eyes.

“You’ll find him, with what you’re doing for everyone here and me.  Hell karma had better be on your side.”  Scott said, smiling as the man next to him let out an amused snort.

“Yeah, listen if you ever want to talk, just get my attention.  But I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time on the road if anything comes up.”  Nate said, gingerly getting to his feet with a yawn, one hand outstretched.

“I’ll keep it in mind, I appreciate you following me up here.”  Scott said, accepting the offered hand to get pulled to his feet and start walking back down the hill.

“Eh, what’s one more lost night of sleep?”  Nate commented as they quietly stepped back into the man’s house.

Bidding each other a quiet goodnight, they separated to their rooms.  Finding his way back under the blankets, he lulled off to sleep.  Mind thankfully devoid of the troubling thoughts that had plagued him before the talk with the man.  He was going to have to cough up the caps to MacCready at this rate.

-

The next morning he woke up with all the aches and pains from his death claw roundup as well as the walk to sanctuary.  The morning sunlight was starting to filter through the reinforced window in the room, just barely catching in his eyes if he let his head fall back down onto the pillow. 

Rolling over toward the wall with a downright pitiful groan, he pulled the thin blankets over his head to try and get a few more blissful minutes of shut eye before someone came looking for him.  Hopefully they would forget he existed since they weren’t supposed to head out until tomorrow.  And maybe Nate would take extra pity on him for his late night talk.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”  MacCready yelled opening his door abruptly.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”  Scott groaned, curled further under his pillow and blankets.

“Nope, Nate is down at the water pump and Curie said I can’t do anything strenuous.  So we’re going to go get breakfast and then go help pick mutfruit.”  MacCready said, lifting the man’s pillow off his head.

“Farming isn’t in my contract.”  Scott mumbled, moving to grab the pillow only to hiss in pain as he moved his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I have it on good authority that you didn’t eat last night so…”  The mercenary said, smiling with a hint of concern flashing across his eyes.

Groaning in discomfort, he gingerly sat up letting the blankets pool at his waist.  He heard the sharp intake of breath from the mercenary, prompting him to look up in confusion as he looked for the shirt he had thrown on the floor last night. 

“You know what, how about I just go grab you breakfast and you go back to sleep.”  MacCready said.

“What are you talking about, I can get my…oh.”  Scott said, looking down at where the other man was looking. 

 A mosaic of black and blue bruises were spread over his lower three ribs, spreading along his abdomen and curling around his back.  Right, death claw, wall, him, yesterday.  No wonder he was ‘sore’, he had completely forgotten about his own issues when he had taken the job from Nate.  Cursing himself, he bent to grab his shirt from the floor.  He should have gone to doctor Amari yesterday and at least gotten a look over. 

“Oh is an understatement.  You walked from Goodneighbor with your armor rubbing on this the whole way.  Why didn’t you say something to Nate, he had meds with him.  Come on let’s get you to Curie so she can at least make sure nothing is going on internally.”  MacCready prompted, worry set deep in his feature as he helped slip the shirt over his head.

“I’m fine, obviously didn’t bite it last night.  Let’s just go get something to eat.”  Scott said, waving the offered hand off as he hauled himself to his feet.

“Sure you are, fine something in your stomach then the clinic.  I could always tell Nate you’re hurt.”  MacCready said with a grin that had Scott glaring daggers at him.

“I should have taken those caps the gunners offered me to throw you off an overpass.”  Scott grumbled, yelping as the mercenary jabbed one of his bony fingers into his tender back.

“I’m flattered that you refused Ryder.”  MacCready chuckled, following the other man to one of the booth in the back of the diner.

“Eh, K.L.E.O. offered me more to off the gunners and sell their gear to her.  But I guess I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy your company every now and again at the rail.”  He said, cringing slightly as he settled into the worn cushions.

“It couldn’t have just been the caps fueling you.”  The man countered, smiling as menus were set down in front of them, ordering his usual nuka cola and Brahmin scramble.

“That’s rich coming from you.”  Scott mumbled, ordering a water and a mole rat omelet.

The silence between them stretched on for just long enough that it had Scott looking up from his menu in confusion.  He came face to face with an angry and tearful MacCready, staring a hole in the stained table with his arms crossed over his chest.  Instantly he felt a deep seed of guilt form in his stomach, knowing that what he had said touched a nerve.

“Mac…”  Scott went to say as the man got his feet and walked down the street toward the entrance. 

“Wait a go Ryder, let’s antagonize everyone.”  He mumbled to himself, eating his food fast before setting the caps on the table for the meal.

Walking to the concrete structure nestled between a pair of dead hedges with a red neon cross, he pushed open the metal door to meet the interior of the clinic.  The only other people in the building were a receptionist and one man elevating his sore ankle on a chair across from him.  He could dimly hear a woman humming in the patient room in the back, clinking metal tools.

“What can I do for you sir?”  The short blonde asked from behind the counter.

“I was thrown against a wall by some death claws the other day, I wanted to check up and see if there was any real damage under the bruises.”  Scott explained, watching the woman’s eyes go wide at the mention of the giant lizards, turning to surprise at the fact he was still walking.

“Alright, it will be about ten minutes until Doctor Curie can see you.  Mr. Henderson, you can come back.”  The woman said, leading the limping man to the back as he took a seat in the comfortable looking couch in the waiting room.

Looking out of the dusty window he could see settlers waking up and beginning their morning.  Getting breakfast, changing guard shifts, or heading to the small field of plants in the back of the settlement.  It painfully reminded him of Altoona.  The peaceful existence of its citizens even though the wasteland raged just feet outside their walls. 

For a moment he could see Cora walking down the dusty streets, leather armor thrown over her old leather jacket and jeans.  Walking with a smile on her face and a rifle over her back, greeting everyone she met.  Blinking he saw Reyes stumbling through the gates with his signature smirk, blood and mud staining his road leathers.  A spare leaf or two stuck in his metal armor.

Jumping as a hand landed on his shoulder, he blinked the day dream away as he caught sight of the receptionist smiling down at him.  Without a word he followed her to the back of the clinic, stopping to drop his shirt, pants, and shoes into a box.  Replaced by an examination gown as he was lead to sit on an old world exam table.  Someone must have salvaged it from Concord.

“Good morning, I’m checking on some bruises correct?”  The tall brunet asked, dressed in a clean vault tech lab coat and some jeans.

“Yeah, mostly on my chest and back.”  Scott answered. 

“Alright, would you mind answering some questions for me as I examine you?  Purely in the interest of getting a base medical file on you just in case you need our services in the future.”  Curie assured, putting on a pair of white medical gloves.

“Sure, I guess that’s alright.”  Scott said, shivering slightly as she pulled the gown off his arms and draped it around his waist.

“Ok.  What is your full name, age, and any past medical issues?”  Curies asked, running a gentle finger over a certain area of bruising that was black and red.

“Scott Ryder, 24, and just some nutrition problems from ten to twenty one.”  Scott explained, groaning between clenched teeth as he fought to stay still over the doctor’s poking.

“What was the cause of the nutrition issues?”  She asked, reaching over to a cabinet mounted to the wall to bring out a tube of cream.

“I was a slave for those years.”  He said quietly as if fearing the whole town would hear him through the thick walls.

The doctor nodded, looking up at his sorrowful expression carefully before gently applying the cool ointment to the more painful spots on his chest and abdomen.  Washing her hands and replacing the tube into the cabinet, she soaked a towel in some water in the sink before motioning for him to lie on his back. 

Hissing as laid back, the woman pulling out a shelf to set his feet on, he took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.  The warm, soaked towel was draped over his chest, ends reaching from his waistband to his neck. 

“The towel will activate the ointment, it should take about ten minutes to work the worst of the damage out.  Is there anything else you would like me to know as your doctor?”  She asked, taking a seat in an old cushioned office chair beside the table he was on. 

“Is it weird that I don’t want to form attachments to anyone here?”  Scott found himself asking, closing his eyes to take in the soothing tingle of the ointment working away his aches and pains.

“You lived for over a decade as a slave, an occupation where getting attached to someone may be useless or dangerous.  And at such a young age, that is just how you developed to see the world around you. 

“Yeah, but I escaped and I found a town that wanted me, hell paid the slavers off that came looking for me.  I had a best friend, someone that cared about me enough to want to spend her life with me.  And I fucking ran, I ran away and became some mercenary that puts as much distance as they can between themselves and other people that just want to help.”  Scott said, tears running over his cheeks.

“Like I said, you didn’t grow up and learn how to deal with positive relationships.  To you there foreign and therefore dangerous.  If anything you found yourself in a very good environment to start practicing, especially with someone like Nate hiring you.”  Curie pushed, taking a quick look under the towel before setting it back down.

“That’s what everyone keeps saying, that Nate is this guy that just transforms anyone he touches.  But while I get along with him, the rest of the people here could probably say different.”  He sighed, rubbing away the moisture on his face.

“There’s no shame in getting better and going back to that first place you found acceptance in.”  She pointed out, gently lifting the towel from his chest to throw in a laundry basket. 

“Oh there’s plenty of shame doc.  They saved me and I climbed under the fence like a mole rat.”  Scott said, laughing under his breath as the woman wiped the excess ointment off his chest.

The woman hummed in acknowledgement, checking over the reduced angry colors on his chest.  Pressing on the points that had once been black and red, now green and blue.  When she was satisfied that he needed no further treatment, his clothes were handed back to him.

“When you feel that you’re ready tell your story to Nate.”  Curie said, showing him the way out with a smile before he could ask what she meant.

Walking out of the clinic he felt lighter both physically and mentally for a change.  Until he damn near slammed into MacCready who was walking with a purpose towards the clinic doors.  He just caught himself from stumbling back and onto his behind.  Watching the duster wearing man look at him with surprise and a little bit of brewing anger.

“Nate told me to come find you, he wants to move out now.”  MacCready mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked together back to their house.

“Look, about this morning.  I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to say it like that.  I just, we were always people that looked for caps over substance.”  Scott stuttered out in apology, causing the other to halt just outside the garage to Nate’s home.

“He got me to change that mindset, hopefully he can do the same for you.  Damn miserable life that was, but I accept the apology.”  MacCready said, smiling as he pushed open the door to meet Nate packing his bag.

“Change of plans?”  Scott asked, walking back to change into his armor and fatigue before grabbing his own pack, leaving the duffle of extra equipment.

“Yeah, some of my minute men scouts said there was movement at the fort.  I don’t want that son of a bitch to move again.”  Nate said, shouldering his rifle.

“Lead the way boss.”  Scott said, checking his pistol before slinging his plasma rifle over his back.

He made his own way outside as MacCready and Nate said their goodbyes.  The other mercenary asking him to be careful.  Sharing a quick kiss before parting ways.  Nate was ten steps ahead of him when MacCready grabbed the sleeve of his fatigue top.

“Watch out for him please.”  The shorter man asked quietly.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come back fine.”  Scott said, smiling in reassurance as he ran to catch up with the man.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	3. Journey

“So this is the place huh?”  Scott asked, leaning against a long dead tree to shake the gravel that had been tormenting his right foot for the last mile from his boot.

The military complex in front of them had stood the test of time unlike some of its neighbors.  Dead plants were draped out the side, moss deep in the cracks of the concrete.  An aging fortress with brand new turrets on its roof.  If this Kellogg was anything, subtle was not included. 

“Yep, ready to go kick in the front door?”  Nate asked, a dark seriousness taking over his normally laid back demeanor.

“Look I’ve got your back for whatever goes down in there, but try and keep your head.  I don’t like dragging clients out of their own puddle of blood.”  Scott urged, one cautious hand on the vault dweller’s shoulder.

“Trust me, I’d have much bigger worries coming from a man about this tall in a duster if I came back like that.”  Nate said, letting a small smile cross his face as he held his hand about to his own shoulder.

“Fair enough, if we stay close enough to that wall I bet there will be an entrance in the parking garage.”  Scott pointed out, gesturing to the bared entrance of the building.

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go.”  Nate said, leading the way.

They managed to get into the building undetected, but soon discovered they were far from alone in the ruined offices of the fort.  A beam from a gen 1 just barely missed his arm as he rounded with his pistol and shattered the synth’s head.  Helping Nate battle the robots down into the basement had nearly exhausted him. 

He had only lived with the fear of the institute for the three years he had worked in the commonwealth.  But he had never actually fought synths or gotten this close to someone that was actively trying to root the boogeyman from the shadows.  Popping two tablets of Buffout, he grabbed his plasma rifle from his back and ran down the long maintenance hall to catch up to Nate.

The man had been moving like a freight train thought the complex, stomping even faster when Kellogg started taunting them over the speakers.  His could see the fury burning in the man’s eyes as he demolished synths and turrets as he worked double to take out the enemies he hadn’t notice in his tunnel vision.

Just as they entered what looked to be the killer’s bedroom, he grabbed Nate by the sleeve to keep him from storming through the door as soon as it opened.  The man’s rage filled gaze turned on him for a moment before dissolving into the Nate he knew. 

“Take a breath, and we’ll go.”  Scott whispered, changing the plasma cartridge in his rifle.

Nate nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out audibly through his mouth.  He made sure to pop a few more tablets of Buffout into his mouth as they stepped into a room stacked with desks and terminals.  The lights flashed on to reveal a bald and scared man starting back at them with a mean looking pistol held in his hand, several synths behind him.

“Where’s my son!  Where’s Shaun!”  Nate yelled, fingers squeezing the life out of his 10mm pistol’s grip.

“Where he belongs, home in the institute.”  Kellogg said, smirk not at all displaced in face of the furious father.

“You son of a bitch, I’ll fucking find him.  Right after I put you in the ground for what you did.”  Nate growled, causing Scott to grip his rifle tight and scan the other threats in the room.

“We’ll see about that.”  Kellogg said activating his stealth boy as all hell broke loose.

Acting fast he grabbed Nate by the shoulders and threw him behind a desk as beams raced over their head from the synths. 

“You go after him, I got the bots.”  Scott said, moving up from their positon to take out three of the ten synths in the room with a well-placed pulse grenade. 

He could distantly hear Nate hunting for the camouflaged man as he dispatched the synths one by one.  Just as the ninth one fell, he turned around to find the man tucked beside one of the desks, pinned by a synth with a rapid firing rifle.  But his more immediate concern was that shimmer between him and Nate, end of that mean pistol coming into existence for just a moment.  Pointing straight at Nate’s head. 

Dropping his rifle to the ground he made a split second decision and barreled into the institute mercenary as hard as he could.  Dimly registering a loud bang and what felt like a punch to the chest he let the Buffout fuel his unnatural strength as they grappled back and forth.  A knee to the wound in his chest sent him back on his ass. 

He dimly felt Kellogg straddle his waist, scared face coming into view as rough hands grabbed his throat.  Vividly feeling the man’s callused thumbs pressed against his windpipe, vision blackening around the edges.  Scrambling for the pistol attached to his thigh, he pressed the old metal against the man’s chest and pulled the trigger again and again until it clicked empty.

The air came rushing back to him all at once as he dragged himself from under the dead mercenary.  With the oxygen came overwhelming pain and nausea as blood soaked through his once green fatigue top.  Slumping to his side on the cold concrete, he dimly heard footsteps rush to him, gentle hands pressing something against his chest.

“Ryder I got you, just stay awake.”  Nate said, rummaging through his pack.

“Guy was a dick.”  Scott mumbled, causing the man above him to snort in amusement.

“Understatement of the century or two, but come on.  Can you walk?”  Nate asked, inserting a stimpack as close as he could to the wound to stabilize the internal damage since he couldn’t find an exit wound. 

“We’ll find out.”  He bit out as Nate hauled him to his feet, setting him in one of the office chairs as he gathered their packs and what he could grab off Kellogg and a terminal in the back of the room.

The sun was setting as they stepped out of the fort.  His arm was throbbing in time with his chest from where Nate had injected him with Med-x to take most of the pain off so that they could make it Sanctuary before he bled out.  He had the heel of his hand pressed to the gauze Nate had stuffed into his chest, other arm slung over the taller man’s shoulder. 

They had chosen to ignore asking question about the giant airship belting out the brotherhood’s slogan as it raced across the sky toward the city.  If there wasn’t a piece of steel lodged in his body, he might have been more questionable about Nate seeming at ease with their presence.

“Tell me if you need to stop.”  Nate said softly, adjusting the arm he had wrapped around the mercenary’s waist to better support him.

Scott nodded, keeping his eyes on Nate’s black boots as they trudged slowly through the diming landscape.  He lost track of time, mostly keeping track by how far the red stain was spreading, now down to the waistband on his pants.  The pain in his chest reared its head again as Nate set him down against a rock in the middle of the pitch black field.

“Here, we’re almost there.  Just a few more miles.”  Nate huffed, clearly exhausted from the emotional and now physical toll of the day.  But nevertheless held the can of purified water to his chapped lips.

“Mhm, awe shit.”  Scott mumbled, groaning as he was hauled back to his wavering feet.

“Stay with me.”  Nate whispered, pressed forward toward the dim lights of sanctuary in the distance. 

It was at the red rocket that his body decided it had gone far enough that day.  Scraping his knees on the rough cement he just barely heard Nate curse as he tried his best to cushion his fall.  Blood was coating the entire front of his torso, rubbing stickily where it had continued to run and soak the front of his pants. 

He was too far gone to feel pain, only shivering at the cold numbness that was entering his bones from the blood loss and cold of the night.  Nate was shouting over the bridge for help, that much he could make up as his ears felt like they were stuffed full of the weird razor grain they fed to the Brahmin.  Rough hands pulled him over a sturdy set of shoulders as voice swirled around him.  The last thing he saw was the blinding red neon cross before giving into the darkness surround his vision.

_“You’re sure he’ll be ok?”  Ellen asked, gently rubbing her thumb over her boy’s warm forehead._

_“Yes, just a little radiation sickness mixed with a light cold.”  The doctor said, packing up his small bag of supplies._

_“How long until he’s ok?”  She asked, tucking the soft blankets around her shivering son._

_“Give him a week or so, try and only give him food you can put through the scrubber.  If he gets worse bring him in.  Have a good day Mrs. Ryder.”  The doc said, tipping his hat before disappearing down the dusty streets._

_“You’ll be alright my boy, just rest.”  Ellen whispered, kissing his sweaty brow as he nuzzled himself closer to her, eyes cracking open to meet hers._

_“Why do I always get sick?”  He asked, sneezing into his pillow._

_“I couldn’t tell you bud.  But it’ll get better, get some rest.”  She whispered._

_“Ok.”  Scott replied, starting to close his eyes only to have his mother shake him.  “What?”_

_“You gotta wake up Scottie.  Wake up now.”  Ellen said, her voice growing distance as a light started to blind his view._

_“But you told me to sleep.”  He whined, feeling the force shake him again._

_“Get up Ryder, come on.”_

Coughing roughly he opened his eyes to the same blurry concrete ceiling he had seen such a little time ago.  His body felt like a solid block of lead, even the smallest movement of trying to look around left him exhausted on the verge of slipping back into his nice memories of his mother.

“Stay awake for me Scott, here small sips please.”  Curie whispered, holding a container to his lips.

What he expected to be more water turned out to be a thicker substance washing over his dry taste buds.  Opening his eyes he saw that it was some kind of pureed stew.  He didn’t realize how hungry he was until his digestive system decided to turn back on and tell him to devour the bowl.

“Easy now, small sips remember.  You’ve been asleep for a few days so it’s understandable that you’re hungry.  Here one moment.”  Curie said, pressing a button that activated a small hydraulic press to elevate his bed.

“Uh, why does everything, hurt.”  He rasped out, voice sore and fragile from disuse.

“You do remember taking a .44 caliber bullet to your sternum correct?”  Curie asked, securely tucking in his blanket below his shoulders. 

“Vividly, is Nate ok?”  He found himself asking, lifting a weak hand to grab at the soup the doctor had set on a meal table that could be positioned over his lap.

“Yes, he just got back from diamond city last night.  I imagine he’ll stop by sometime today, he has every day you’ve been resting.”  Curie explained, positioning the table over his lap before grabbing a spoon for him to use.

“How bad is it?”  Scott asked, taking a bite of the warm liquid.

“Well, I did have to go in and remove the bullet as it was lodged in the muscles of your back.  Just barely missed your heart, but did lacerate your lung.  As of now it’s all repaired and on the mend, but you’ll need to rest for at least two more weeks to make sure you don’t contract an infection or tear something.”  She explained, replacing his empty IV fluids bag with a full one.

“Thank you, how much do I owe you?”  Scott asked, mentally calculating what losses he would have to deal with in loss of jobs over the next couple weeks as well as the medical costs.

Just as he asked the question, the door to his private room opened to reveal a semi-sunburnt Nate dressed in a clean shite t-shirt and some faded tan slacks.  He had a relieved smile on his face, walking over to take the worn metal fold up chair beside his bed.

“Glad to see you’re awake, we we’re worried.”  Nate said, glancing up as Curie set down one more bowl full of instamash as well as a glass of water before leaving the pair alone.

“Yeah, I appreciate you not leaving me there.”  He mumbled in between bites, stomach finally starting to feel full.

“I would never, plus I get the feeling you hold grudges.”  The man said, laughing under his breath as the boy smiled with the spoon in his mouth.

“Just a little.”  Scott said, scraping the last of the mash from the bottom of the bowel.

They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes as he finished his meal.  Every now and again glancing over to see a conflicted expression on the vault dweller’s face.  Pushing the table to the side and finding the button Curie had used, he lowered his bed back to level before setting his gaze on Nate.

“What’s wrong?”  He asked, bring the hand up that wasn’t attached to an IV to pull the blankets over his shoulders.

“Why would you take a bullet for me?”  Nate asked, looking uncertain for once in Scott’s time of knowing him.

“Not good business practice to let the client die.”  Scott answered, seeing the man’s conflicted gaze not change.

“That’s not what I asked Ryder, you had no cause to stop that bullet for coming at me if I was just a client.”  Nate pushed, running his hand through his messy hair.

“When you actually followed me up the hill that night to make sure I was ok.  Few people have done that for me and I was an ass to them.  I would rather not repeat my mistake of letting down the only people that care about me.”  Scott quietly explained, looking back to the ceiling with a sigh. 

“Thank you.  Look I know you still have some recovery time here, but I would like to ask you to continue traveling with me if you would like.  I still have a long road ahead of me to getting my son back, and you’ve definitely proven yourself capable.  At the very least I want to offer you a few weeks here to get better before you head out.”  Nate offered, obviously reigning in his hope that the other would say yes.

The question shook the cobwebs from his fractured attention, turning his gaze back to the man.  The first thought he had was to politely accept the two weeks of medical care and go on his way.  But a growing part of him starting thinking that he wouldn’t mind tagging along with the man for the next few weeks or months to get his son back to him.  Besides he had an odd feeling that Nate was going to be good for him. 

“Dammit.”  Scott groaned prompting the man’s hopeful expression to morph into one of concerned confusion.

“What?”  Nate asked hesitantly, looking if the boy was having any issues that were causing him pain.

“MacCready bet me a thousand caps that you would change my mind, so yeah I’ll tag along with you for as long as you need me.”  Scott yawned, settling back into the pillows with a smile.

“Oh, that little shitweasel.  I’m glad that you’re staying, but we’ll talk about that later.  Get some rest and I’ll check in with you later tonight.”  Nate said, laughing under his breath as he took his leave to let the boy rest.

-

A week and a half later, Curie allowed him out of the clinic to walk gingerly around the settlement.  The pain in his chest had dulled from the sharp pains he had been having on the short walks to the bathroom his first few days in the clinic, to a dull throb centered around where the bullet had hit him and done the damage.  The doctor had him on a small regiment of Med-x as well as some compression bandages covering her layer of miracle ointment she had applied to his surgical wound.

The loose gray sweatpants and long sleeve cotton shirt were a welcome comfort to his recovery.  Just being able to walk around Sanctuary in slip on shoes rather than his boots was a godsend compared to existing in armor nearly 24/7 in Goodneighbor.  Just being able to walk around and feel like he was normal for once rather than scrambling for survival in the wasteland.

“Ryder good to see you up and around, I’m Preston Garvey.  I help Nate coordinate affairs with the minute men.”  The darker skinned man greeted, stopping on his patrol route to move his rifle to the other hand to shake his hand.

“A lot of responsibility then.”  He commented, turning to walk with the man rather than continue down the hill.

“Yeah, especially with how fast he has grown our settlement count.  But I imagine we’ll get busier in other ways since he’s pushing hard to get into the institute.”  Preston explained, waving to where Mama Murphy was lounging on a blanket on the ground, Dogmeat’s head laid on her lap.

“He’s driven, that’s good for the wasteland, probably less so for the institute.”  He said, lifting a hand to rub at the soreness building in his chest from being out of bed for a little too long.

“No argument there, thank you for going with him and doing what you did.  If something happened to him, I don’t know what we would do.”  Preston said, smiling warmly at him as they stopped in front of the clinic.

“Just doing my job.”  Scott said with a smile.

“Keep up the good work then.”  The man said, waving goodbye as he continued back down his patrol route.

Coughing lightly into his sleeve, he made his way to the back of the clinic, intent on lying down for a little while to ease the discomfort.  It was an odd experience to actually have time to get better and rest rather than pushing himself to get back to the minimal for another job.  Instead he was stopped as he hand landed on the door to the back rooms of the clinic, Nate having jumped up from where he was sitting on the waiting room couch. 

“Hey, Curie said you were ok to check out of the clinic.”  Nate said, a tired smile on his face.

“Oh, ok.  So I assume I’m going back in the spare room for a few more days?”  Scott asked, following the man back out of the door and down the street towards his house.

“I had another idea actually.”  Nate said, smirking in a way that immediately had Scott feeling suspicious.

They stopped in front of the yellow house just to the left of Nates down the small slope to the entrance of the settlement.  Watching the vault dweller expectantly he just stood there and tried to rein in his flying thoughts.  It wasn’t until the man unlocked the door to the reinforced house and pushed him inside that it all finally started to click into place.

“The Clarks were living here, but moved out last month to settle up at Spectacle Island.  I want you to have it for all you’ve done so far and what we’re hopefully going to do in the future.”  Nate explained, shutting the door behind him before switching on the lights.

The living room area of the home was only sparsely populated with a shorter black couch, two red arm chairs, a long dining table compete with a few chairs, and some short tables by the couches.  The room had been painted a comforting tan.  It had a full kitchen to the left of the door, and a hallway stretching to the right.  The bathroom was refurbished with working plumbing.  With the back two rooms being used for a small office/storage area and the other a small bedroom with a worn dresser, nightstand, closet, and metal framed bed like the one he had in Nate’s home. 

It actually felt like a secure place, a home that he could come back to at the end of a long day and feel comfortable.  Looking inside the bedroom he just caught sight of his pack, duffle, and a crate with his armor stacked in it.  On top of the dresser he caught sight of a small white first aid box, no doubt from Curie to take care of his wound on his own.  Turning around he saw Nate standing in the hallway, waiting anxiously for his reaction.

“You don’t have to do this, there has to be someone else that needs this.”  Scott said, gesturing to the home around him.

“I do have to, you save my life Scott.  You deserve somewhere that you feel safe, not to be stuffed into the bunkhouse or in my spare room.  Besides, you don’t want to hear what Mac and I do in that house.”  Nate explained, smirking as the boy in front of him blushed.

“Point taken, thank you.”  Scott said, walking with the man back out into the living room.

“Of course, so are you up to talking about our next step or do you want to get some rest first?”  Nate asked.

“Go ahead, I’ll take a nap after.”  Scott said, settling into the smaller couch with a deep sigh as the other man took one of the armchairs.

“While you were resting in the clinic I went to diamond city and talked with a detective that has been helping me out this whole time.  He and I went to Goodneighbor to pull some memories out of an implant Kellogg had in his head.  We have a lead on a scientist that escaped the institute that is hiding in the glowing sea.  We think with his information maybe we could find a way into the institute.”  Nate explained, wringing his hands in worry.

“Sounds like a good plan, have you ever been to the glowing sea?”  Scott asked, shivering at his own experiences.

One of his first jobs in the commonwealth had been in the barren wasteland to the south.  The job had paid exponentially well to just go and retrieve some documents from the old Atlantic Offices.  What he hadn’t planned for was the debilitating storm that had hit the area he around the offices after he had grabbed the documents.  Not having enough radaway to spend the night in the sea, he had wrapped what he could around his face and starting walking North.

Making it out of the sea with his bandana sticking to his face because of the blood that had run from his nose, he had limped to vault 81 and subsequently collapsed in the elevator.  He had done several more runs into the sea, often asking for a much larger sum to cover the protective measures that he needed to take to prevent the results from his first trip.

“No, not really.”  Nate said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’re going to need plenty of rad-x, radaway, and protective layers under our armor.  I have a few places marked just in case we get bogged down in a storm, but that doesn’t account for everything that lives there.”  Scott explained.

“I do have a few sets of power armor that we could use to get through the radiation.  I have the rad scrubbers, just need to find the time to install them.”  He commented, looking up from his nervous hands.

“That would work perfectly, where exactly are we going in the sea?”  Scott asked, relief washing over him at having both the radiation and physical protection from the armor on the table.

“The crater, then probably farther south from there depending on how far the scientist made it.”  Nate said, causing Scott to look at him in surprise.

“Ok, well that’s going to be an interesting hike.  Give me a few days to rest up a little more and plan us a route.  You get the scrubbers installed and we’ll head out as soon as we’re ready.  But right now I need a nap.”  Scott explained, groaning as he got to his feet.

“Ok, do you mind me coming to grab you for dinner tonight?”  Nate asked, moving towards the front door.

“No, I’ll probably be up.”  Scott said, smiling as the man took his leave and he made his way back to the bedroom.

Stripping down to his underwear, he slipped into the soft sheets of the bed, pulling the wool blanket over his shoulders before shutting his eyes.  The settlement was largely quiet for the afternoon, most of the settlers off enjoying a meal or working on whatever job they had been assigned.  The house, his house, was more off the beaten path then the clinic had been so it was an even more peaceful quiet for his mind to drift off into dreamland.

_“I expect you to study while I’m gone Scott, no more comics.”  Alec warned, slipping his jacket on before disappearing out the door into the busy streets of The Hub._

_Frowning at the dense textbook in front of him, he leaned forward onto his elbows.  He had been reading his comics peacefully at the dinner table when his father had dropped the NCR combat trooper manual onto the worn wood.  He had been signed up for the NCR Junior Troopers by his father, to ensure that he would make something of himself from a young age._

_“Come on Scottie just a few chapters then you can go back to your comics until lunch.”  His mother said, smiling from where she was cutting up meat and veggies to put through the rad scrubber._

_“I don’t wanna fight mama, I just wanna help people or something.”  Scott mumbled, pushing the book away from him._

_“I’m sorry bud, but like it or not there are bad people in this world and you need to know how to defend yourself.  The stronger you are, the more people you can help.”  Ellen reassured, walking over to take his stack of comics and scoot the book back towards him._

_“Why can’t I just join the Freedom Writers instead?”  Scott asked, referring to the youth group that wrote articles for the NCR tribune as well as pushed its members into more political than military positions._

_“Because this is what your father and I agreed would be best for you and your sister.”  She pushed, setting his comics in one of the kitchen drawers._

_“It’s not fair.”  Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest with a stern pout._

_“It’s for the best kiddo.”  Ellen said, dropping the meat into the rad scrubber._

_“For you guys it is.”  He mumbled, sliding out of the chair to walk back to his room._

_“Scott Augustus Ryder, you get back to the table this instant!”  His mother shouted, washing her hands before following him._

_Opening his door, she couldn’t see him anywhere, only the curtains blowing back and forth from the open window._

Opening his eyes, he cringed at the sore ache in his chest and the queasy feeling in his stomach brought on by the dream.  It was starting to become an annoyance, dreaming of his life back in the NCR this much.   In all reality he didn’t know if it was better or worse that he was dreaming of The Hub rather than the pit, Altoona, or his adventures in the Commonwealth.  It would be nice to just have one or two dreamless nights.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he leaned forward to drag the crate of his armor over to his feet.  Most of it was intact, only a few loose pieces to sew back together.  Hopefully Nate had a workbench here with tools he could use like most settlements had.  The metal chest plate that he had picked up from a job just a few weeks ago was now a mess of shredded plates from the synth rifles and the one charred hole in the center from Kellogg. 

His fatigues weren’t even in the box, probably in bloody pieces in the clinic’s dumpster.  Which meant he would need to find another pair or something similar to attach his armor over.  A simple pair of pants and a t-shirt wouldn’t do if he wanted insulation and just a little more full body protection that leathers or fatigues gave him. 

Sliding the crate over into the corner, he grabbed the duffle with his extra good as well as a bag of 300 caps before getting dressed in some shorts, his sarsaparilla shirt, and some old combat boots.  The obvious picture of wasteland fashion.  Smiling to himself he walked out of his house and over to the market.

“Oh, looks whose back.  That bullet knock you off your high horse?”  The old woman asked, smirking as he glanced down to the worn floor boards and set his duffle on her counter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to treat you like a big city merchant.  It was just, what I was used to.  Could we start over?”  Scott asked, giving her his most apologetic smile that he could.

“I suppose so merc, apology accepted.  Tell you what, since I was trying to get the caps in my favor last time.  I’ll offer you 1100 caps for your stuff.”  The woman said, leaning forward on her stool.

“Deal, could I get some .44 and see what kind of clothes you have in stock?”  Scott asked, watching her count out his caps.

“Of course, here is four boxes of sixteen rounds each for let’s say 120 caps.  Then I have some road leathers or an old set of desert camo fatigues that a trader brought in from some outpost.  I also have some sturdy looking combat armor I could make a deal with you for.  Saw them drag you to the clinic, so I know that armor of yours is damn near worthless.”  She explained, stacking up the ammo boxes before dragging a box of clothing to the counter.

“I’ll take the fatigues, and what would you sell the armor for?”  He asked, folding the clothes to put into the duffle bag along with ammo.

“How about 500 caps for the set.”  She offered, setting the five pieces out on the table for him to look at.

It was nice armor, almost new with only a few scratched on the chest plate.  It was also between the lighter, nearly useless model of combat armor and the heavy built shit that felt like you were in a smaller suit of power armor without the useful hydraulics to take the weight off.  This sturdy build set covered all the important parts without the excess weight that would slow him down. 

“I’ll take it, thank you.”  He said, setting the pieces into the duffle before accepting his left over caps from the purchase.

“Thanks for taking it off me, no one usually buys stuff like that here.  Come back soon if you have more stuff to get rid of from your jobs.”  The woman said, going back to reading a worn issue of picket fences.

Walking back to his house he only made it to the front door before he heard a certain short statured mercenary calling his name.  Sighing he opened his door and left it open before toeing off his boots and setting the duffle on the couch.  He turned around in time to catch MacCready leaning in his doorway, out of breath in a pair of jeans and a shirt just a little too big for his frame. 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.”  The man said, taking a seat in one of the dining chairs.

“It’s alright, I’m sure Nates kept most of your attention.”  Scott said, gesturing to the oversized shirt as he walked back to his bathroom to grab the box of medical supplies that Curie left him.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did for him, your contract didn’t exactly include taking a bullet like you did.”  MacCready said, rubbing the blush away from his cheeks as the other emerged from the bathroom.

“It was necessary in the moment, I’m fine.”  He said, lying his shirt on the arm of the couch before opening the white box.

MacCready had to look towards the carpet for a moment.  The five inch vertical line carved into Scott’s chest following his sternum was still red and inflamed from healing and moving around.  Sitting at the bottom third of the scar was a noticeable starburst pattern where the bullet had penetrated his chest.  The man himself was calmly cleaning the collective sweat and discharge from the wound, used bandage in a clump beside him.

“You were knocking on deaths door when Sturges grabbed you from red rocket, more red than green left on your clothes.  If Curie hadn’t have brought that surgical scanner off of that trader when you two were out, I don’t know what would have happened.”  MacCready admitted, looking back up as Scott struggled to rewrap his chest.

“You said it yourself, Nates a good guy.  And honestly if the world had to let one of us go, Nate can’t be it.”  He said, wincing as MacCready got up to help wind the bandages around the gauze pad on his chest before taping the wrap in place.

“You say that like that world wouldn’t lose anything if you left it.”  The man said carefully, helping slip the shirt back over his head.

“Not as much as he does.”  Scott said, getting up to throw away the old bandage and put the box back in the bathroom.

“You know that’s not true, look at everyone Nate brings together here.  We all play a part.”  MacCready pushed, settling back into his chair.

“But Nates the one that makes it all work.  An engine can do shit if there isn’t something fueling it to make all the pieces work together.”  Scott replied, walking back out to make his way into the small kitchen.

“And if one of the parts is missing?”  MacCready asked, leaning forward in his chair to see around the corning into the kitchen, just catching the tense in the other man’s posture over the counter top.

“Then the machine makes due.”  Scott stated harshly, not turning around to look at the merc.

“Who hurt you?”  MacCready asked, getting up to stand in the middle of the living room.

He knew it had been a mistake to ask that kind of question to anyone in the wasteland without expecting a knife in the back.  Pasts were usually off limits unless you had the charm of someone like Nate to coax it out of a person at the right time.  And as he watched Ryder hunch in on himself and grab the edge of the counter with white knuckles.

“Ryder…”  He tried, just ducking in time to dodge the pan aimed at his head.

“Leave, and tell Nate not to get me for dinner.”  Scott growled, staring at the time on the backsplash of the sink so that the other mercenary couldn’t see the tears streaming down his cheeks.

_“Fine, but you might regret it one day when all someone is trying to do is help and you hurt them.”_

-


	4. Change

The crunch of the charred ground between their heavy metal feet was the only sound that echoed among the static filled thunder of the glowing sea.  The walk from sanctuary had been uncharacteristically quiet and tense for the pair.  They had only exchanged bare bone greetings this morning over a few bites of radstag jerky, nowhere near the companionable conversation they had enjoyed just a week earlier.

“I was always surprised how comfortable power armor was on a long march.  It was terrible at keep out the cold though.”  Nate commented in an attempt to break the merc out of his silence.

“Yeah.”  Scott mumbled, taking a path under the scorched highway to avoid a pack of radscopions skittering by a pool of highly irradiated water.

“Hmm, you know the offer still stands if you want to talk.”  Nate said, just catching himself as he skidded down a slick embankment.

Scott sighed inside of the almost claustrophobic environment of the power armor helmet.  Breathing in the recycled air, hearing the filters pumping out the radiation sitting heavy in the air the further south they marched.  Green lightening cracked overhead, startling Nate but driving him to move faster toward the glowing crater in the distance.

“Curie said something to me in the clinic.  That when the time was right, I should tell you my story.”  Scott said, almost too quietly in the roaring storm for Nate to make out.

“Normally most of the people I travel with do when they’re ready.  It usually leads me on some pretty interesting adventures or just lets me understand where they came from.”  Nate explained, smiling behind the helmet at the man finally opening up somewhat.

“Well, remind me when we get back from this and I’ll tell you over a few alcoholic beverages.”  Scott said, gesturing to the crater they were now standing in.

“Look forward to it Ryder.”  Nate said, looking up as a woman came up to them.

“Why have you come to Atom’s holy ground strangers?”  Mother Isolde asked, watching the two armored men with cautious eyes.

“Still calling me strange Isolde, I’m hurt.”  Scott said, laughing under his breath as the woman relaxed in front of him with a smirk.

Climbing out of his metal shell, he shoved his black flight helmet over his head, turning the jury rigged filter on.  He was wearing his new combat armor over an old mechanical jumpsuit that he had picked up from a uranium processing plant on his walk from Altoona to the Commonwealth.  It did a good job at blocking out radiation while also covering his entire body. 

“You will always be strange to us Ryder, what brings you out this far?  Please don’t tell me you’re taking out another nest of deathclaws for that ghoul.”  Mother Isolde said, still eyeing Nate with suspicion.

“Hey, he pays well for my skills as an exterminator.  But we’re actually here tracking someone that came here to hide.  Have you heard of a Virgil?”  Scott asked, adjusting the dial on the side of helmet as the rad storm picked up.

“Yes, he lives in a cave about a mile south west of us.  A part of me doesn’t like him here, he is an affront to Atom.”  She explained, frowning slightly.

“Thank you, it was nice to see you again.”  He said, slipping back into his armor to start heading toward the cave.

They quickly made this way to the cave, Scott only just shoving Nate to the ground in time to stop him from stomping right up on a deathclaw.  Grabbing his knife, he tried his best to convey his smirk to the nervous man beside him through the helmet.  Jumping over the small bluff they had hidden behind, he jumped onto the back of the giant lizard and shove the blade into the vulnerable space in the back of its neck. 

“Remind me not to make you angry.”  Nate huffed, coming to stand beside the man as he shoved the important part of the animal into his pack.

“Eh, your parts aren’t nearly as profitable.”  Scott said, stomping up to the mouth of the cave.

“Thank, you?”  He said with uncertainty clear in his voice.

Walking past the idle turrets, he just turned the corner when a giant green hand wrapped around his throat and pinned him against the rocky wall of the cave.  Looking up he met the furious gaze of a super mutant whose glasses had long since been shattered, only held on by a scrap of wire.  The tatters of his clothing covered his relatively thin body for a mutant.

“Wait, are you Virgil?”  Nate asked, voice high and tight as he held himself back from stepping in to separate the pair.

“How do you know that, we’re you sent by Kellogg, are you just distracting me so that he can sneak behind me?”  Virgil asked, tightening his grip on the man’s throat in front of him.

“No, Kellogg’s dead, the man your choking was the one that did it.  Please Virgil we’re just here to talk about the institute.”  Nate pushed, watching the merc starting to slack in his struggling.

“Fine, but don’t try anything.”  Virgil snarled dropping the man in front of him.

Scott hit the ground like a sack of metal potatoes.  Ripping off his helmet to gasp in air and cough roughly into his metal fist.  Virgil had taken a few steps back from the pair, looking slightly guilty for causing pain to the man below him. 

“I need a way into the institute, and before you ask I know you escaped and I know they use teleportation to get to and from it.”  Nate explained, helping Scott to his shaky feet as he shoved his helmet back on.

“How could you, no I don’t want to know.  Why on earth would you want to get into the institute, what possible motivation would you have for wanting to go there?”  Virgil asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They took my son, and I’m going to get him back.”  Nate said, voice going tight with emotion as the mutant’s face fell.

“Oh, I’m truly sorry.  I can write up some plans for a signal interceptor, but you’ll need to get yourself a courser chip to acquire the write access code.  You can pick up a signal at the old C.I.T. ruins and find one from there.”  Virgil explained, causing Scott to bristle.

“Oh yeah, just go kill a courser then walk at the way back out here to get a piece of paper from you.  Sounds like a fool proof plan.”  Scott said, voice hoarse and rough.

“Well I’m not about to leave with the institute trying to kill me, so that’s your old option.”  Virgil growled back, tensing for a fight.

“Wait, what if you come back to my settlement with me.  We can give you a secure home and protection as long as you help us.”  Nate proposed, catching the mutant off guard.

“You can’t be serious, no settlement would want a super mutant among them.  Especially if they learned that I used to work with the institute.”  Virgil said in dismissal.

“You’d be surprised the number of odd balls he attracts.”  Scott mumbled, earning an amused smirk from the vault dweller.

“Besides, could it really be worse than living out here for the rest of your life?”  Nate asked, smiling behind his helmet.

“I suppose not, give me a few moments to pack up what I need and I’ll come with you two.”  Virgil said, disappearing deeper into the cave to start packing his things.

Scott sighed and tried to quell the pain radiating from his neck.  The radiation was also starting to get to him even though only a small dose registered on the Geiger counter in the suit.  If he spent much more time in the harsh storms he would be dealing with a six to ten hour recovery period on his couch back in sanctuary.

He had learned back in his youth that he was innately vulnerable to coming down with a unique brand of radiation sickness.  With the experimentation of their doctor, they had finally come up with a combination of radaway and Buffout to support his immune system as the first chemical rinsed the radiation from his system.  But right now he couldn’t risk the treatment, or give another thing for Nate to worry about. 

“Alright, lead the way.”  Virgil said, a bag strapped to his back and a terminal in his hands.

It took them into the next morning to make it back to sanctuary.  He had promptly passed out in his bed after leaving his power armor under the long gone garage of the home and leaving a trail of his armor and clothes leading to the bedroom.  It wasn’t until the morning of that next day that he came back to the world, not exactly with the wakeup call he wanted.

Stumbling into his bathroom, nearly tripping on his chest plate along the way he hunched over the toilet bowl and emptied the meager content of his stomach.  His head was burning and his body felt like lead, telling him that he was in danger of dropping into the more serious symptoms of his radiation cold.  Dragging himself to his pack that he had left near the couch, he grabbed a pack of radaway and some Buffout before heading back to his bed.

Hooking up the bag on the wall above him, he cleaned the needle before inserting it into his arm.  Swallowing six tablets of Buffout, he leaned back into his collection of pillows and drew the blankets up and over his head to block out any extra sensations.  The treatment didn’t hurt as much as it was uncomfortable to go through if he didn’t manage to fall back asleep before it really took hold.

Buffout was known for stimulating the body and cardiac system, so his muscles would start to twitch and move on their own since he wasn’t using the chemical during activity.  Most of the time he had to endure one of the treatments, he laid there for six hours at a minimum toeing the line between consciousness and sleep.  Definitely not the image that he wanted Nate to walk in on.

“Hey, you ok?”  The man asked, kneeling down to lift the edge of the blanket to get a look at the merc, careful of the tube feeding the man radaway.

“P-p-peachy, w-w-what’s up?”  Scott stuttered, jaw trembling as the drugs took effect.

“Nothing I was just coming to check up on you and see if you wanted to grab something to eat.  But now I’m feeling that I should have brought Curie with me.”  Nate explained, nervously looking over his tired features.

“Mhm alright, g-give me s-s-six hours to r-rest.”  He mumbled, lifting a trembling hand to pull the blankets back over his face.

“Fine, but I swear if I come back this afternoon and you’re dead.  I’ll bring you back to life and leave you with Hancock for a week.”  Nate threatened, taking his leave.

He smiled to himself, dimly registering the change out light outside of his blanket fortress.  His mind wandered between one thing to another without truly falling asleep once in the seven hours that he laid in bed.  Feeling the tremors in his body subside, he removed the needle from his arms and disposed of the now empty bag.  Dragging on a pair of sweat pants and a soft long sleeve shirt, he took one of his softer blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders before making his way out to the living room. 

Making himself a cup of tea made from the odd collection of spices and leaves offered in the Commonwealth, he made his way outside to sit in the worn pool lounger that the last family had scavenged and left on the pseudo deck that was really an old concrete pad that once held a rusty wreck of a car that had long been torn apart to restore the roof.

“You look comfy.”  Nate said, two plates of steaming food and a small cooler held in his hands.

“Atom almighty, are you spying on me?”  Scott asked, just barely stopping himself from flinching hard enough to spill his tea.

“No, I make other people spy on you.”  The man said, smirking as he settled in the other deck chair, setting the plates of food down on the low table between them.

“How reassuring, thanks.”  He said, digging into his food after not eating for over a day.

“Don’t mention it, can I ask what the whole sitting in bed nearly having a seizure thing was about?”  Nate asked, diving into his own food.

“I get sick from radiation a little easier than others.  It only takes a low exposure over a long time to make me sick for a week, but never seriously ill.  Kind of like a radiation cold more than a sickness.  It happened a lot when I as younger from eating slightly irradiated food.  So after a few experiments, my doctor discovered that combining Buffout and radaway while resting got rid of it within half a day rather than a week.”  Scott explained, burrowing further into the blanket as he scraped what was left of his food into his spoon.

“Oh, that makes sense.  I was just worried.”  The man replied, turning to pull two bottles of beer out of the cooler at his feet.

“Worried enough to get me drunk I see.”  Scott chuckled, reaching over for one of the bottle nevertheless after Nate popped the cap off of it.

“I was actually hoping to facilitate you telling me your story, but we can also just drink if you’re not ready.”  Nate explained, taking a sizable gulp of his drink.

“Well, where do I start?  I was born in the New California Republic, The Hub specifically.  It was the trading capital of the NCR, twenty times or more the size of diamond city.  I lived in old town where most of the lower class residential neighborhoods were based.  Mother was a scientist and my father worked a desk job for the army, had a twin sister that was completely different from me.” 

“My mother was a great person, loved and put up with me until she passed because of a disease we had no idea about.  Dad wasn’t so good, beat me a lot for not living up to his expectations to be some tough NCR soldier like my sister was on track for.  I wanted to join this group that wrote articles and took on a more political alignment.  In all reality if life had gone the way I wanted it to, I would have been better suited to work with Piper than you.”

“After my mother died and my sister was accepted into a junior trooper board school, my father was kicked out of his position because the NCR decided that his position wasn’t important enough to keep with Kimball’s budget cuts.  I was ten at the time and my father decided to drag me across the wasteland to the Commonwealth because he had heard of a profitable scrapping job.  It didn’t pan out for a variety of reasons, one being that no scraping outfit wanted the liability of a kid running around.  One thing lead to another and my dad hauled me to the pit.”

“There was a group of slavers there that used people to rebuild a small section of the city using the old pre-war forges.  My father tried to sell me, but ended up getting grabbed along with me to become a worker.  I eventually ended up killing him after he nearly beat me to death over a piece of food.  I can still see the surprise in his face when I stuck him in the heart with a piece of scrap metal.”

“I stayed in the pit until I was twenty one before I choose to escape.  I was in a bad way, emaciated, tired, and weak.  I stumbled on this little town called Altoona, where a very nice man hauled me by the nape of my jacket into the clinic where his wife nursed me back to health over the course of a month or so.  The town took me in and supported me, especially two specific people.”

“Reyes was this smuggler mercenary guy that flirted with me to no end.  Cora was a wall guard that got dared to go talk to me.  She made me believe that I could be something more than some callus asshole that only cared about himself and didn’t want the danger of attachments.  There was a day that two of the raiders that worked in the pit got into the town and found me.  Slapped the slave collar back onto my neck and I froze between two feelings.”

“One that I didn’t want to go back to that place, and another that I didn’t want people to get hurt because of me.  The town ended up paying off the raiders 13,000 caps to save me.  And that night I packed my stuff and slipped under the fence like an ungrateful dog.  Fast forward three years of mindless mercenary jobs and here I am.  Sipping tea in the Commonwealth with some guy I barely know.” 

There was a comfortable silence between them as he finished, sipping his beer as he registered the lightening of his chest from spilling his entire life story on someone.  Turning his head to look at the man beside him he was met with a look of surprise that was trying to morph into one of empathy or at the very least sympathy. 

“I understand why you would want to put distance between others, but I’m also proud of you as someone that despite all the ups and downs has gotten to this point.”  Nate said, setting his empty beer down on the table.

“I just hate that I got to an up and ran away from it.”  He whispered, taking in the last of his beer.

“You never really experienced it, it’s alright to be scared of new things.  Besides, is there anything really saying that you couldn’t go back when you’re ready?”  The man asked gently.

“Other than my own stupid self, no, there’s nothing saying that they wouldn’t hug me after they smacked me for leaving.  I just want to make sure that if I go back I can be the person that doesn’t have something bad happen and run again.”  Scott explained, accepting another beer from the man.

“You’ll get there, and I’ll tell you what.  After all of this chaos is over with, I would happily take a hike with you back to Altoona if you want that support.”  Nate proposed, looking over at the man beside him.

“I’d like that, and I’m here for the long run if that’s the light at the end of the tunnel.”  Scott said, smiling as he clinked his bottle together with Nates.

They sat in relative silence for a while, casually sipping their drinks as they took in the organized chaos of the settlement.  Traders rushing around with Brahmin loaded down with goods.  Either on their way out to another settlement as a provisioner, or coming to the market to offload their goods on one of the merchants or to Sanctuary as a whole. 

“It’s still weird to see it like this.”  Nate mumbled, cradling the nearly empty bottle in his hands down by his lap.

“What?  Never thought you would see your settlement grow into something that would rival the great green garbage pit?”  Scott asked, starting to laugh only to stop at the faraway look in the man’s eyes.

“No, I.  I lived here before the war.  That vault up there, it was the one that I was in for over two hundred years.  Frozen just as the bombs fell, only to wake up to see my wife murdered and my son pried out of her dead arms.  To wake up to this.”  Nate said, his voice dipping into an emotionally angry tone as he clenched his jaw to stop from breaking down.

“Um, that’s terrible Nate.  It’s amazing that you made it this far after all that happened.”  He said, sitting up in his chair to give the hurting man his full attention.

“Eh, more of survival fueled by revenge.”  Nate muttered, reaching to grab another bottle.

“You’ve done a lot more than that.  Look at what you’ve built, the people you brought together and changed for the better.  You know this place can be better because you lived when it was better.  That’s more drive and vision than most of the wasteland has to offer on a good day.”  Scott mused, finishing the last of his drink before reaching for his cooling tea.

“I wanted to make it as good of an environment I could for when I find my son, Shaun.  But a nagging part of my mind thinks that if I don’t find him or that ceases to be an option.  I’ll just crumble.”  Nate explained in a quiet tone, a tear slipping down as far as his mouth before he wiped it away.

“Look if he’s out there we’re going to find him.  As for what happens after that I can’t guarantee that it will work out, but I do know that you have a wonderful partner and plenty of supportive friends to help you when you get there.”  He explained, gently taking the unopened bottle from the man’s shaking hand to place back in the cooler.

“Thank you Ryder, I appreciate it.”  The vault dweller whispered, taking a deep shaky breath as a set of footsteps started approaching them.

Smiling at the man, he looked up in time to see the short statured mercenary walk down the sidewalk in his usual duster and hat.  He looked semi surprised to see the pair lounging together with at least three empty bottles between the pair.  His gaze then locked onto his partner, who was trying and failing to coach his expression back from one of despair.

“Having a party without me?”  MacCready asked, walking up to lean against that wall just a few feet from the sitting pair.

“Not really a party, more of a drinking therapy session.”  Nate muttered, smirking as Scott let out a snort.

“Which one of us is the therapist?”  Scott asked, pulling the blanket move over his shoulders with a small cough.

Watching Nate laugh, he was able to settle back in his chair and sip his tea.  Content that his boss had trusted him enough to let him know such a vulnerable part of his past.  He knew from rumors around town that the man had been a vault dweller.  But he had just thought that the man had been an outlier from 81, never from any of the other vaults in the Commonwealth that he knew about.  It was strange to think that Nate had seen that bombs drop, that he had been a part of the old world that he had only seen in fragments and billboards. 

To think that he had to wake up every day and realize that he wasn’t in his world anymore must have been incredibly difficult for the man that looked barely into his thirties.  But more so that he had come out of the traumatic experience and helped damn near everyone he could get into a conversation.  It was remarkable that he was still standing as tall as he was, going through things that had corroded many before him, including himself.

“Well since we’re talking, I’m sorry for pushing you Ryder.  I should have paid more mind to your boundaries.”  MacCready said, now sitting in his partner’s lap with a shameful look on his features.

“It’s alright, I overreacted.”  Scott said, smiling in an effort to reassure the merc.

“No you didn’t, and I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re helping Nate.  But overall, you’re important to this whole ride and I didn’t want you thinking that it was ok for you to get shot instead of him.  Or that you’re expendable in face of it.”  MacCready explained, reaching down to squeeze his partner’s hand.

“I know that, but a part of me is always going to feel like others are better off alive than I am.”  Scott stated, sighing deeply as he brought his free hand up to rub at his temple.

“Is that you thinking or your father talking?”  Nate asked quietly catching both of the mercenary’s off guard.

Recoiling in on himself, he fought the overwhelming urge to run into his house and collapse in on himself.  Taking a deep breath he pried his fingers off where they were clenching around the mug.  Setting in on the table, he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

“Yeah, probably my father talking.”  He whispered, fighting the sensation building behind his eyes.

“What do you think?”  MacCready asked carefully, looking to Nate for direction in the unfamiliar territory.

“I want to realize that what you tell me is true, that people would care about me enough to take a bullet for me.”  Scott said, pulling one hand away to rub at the back of his neck.

“Well, we’ll keep telling you until it sticks.”  Nate said, smiling as he looked up to nod at the pair.

Scott nodded, getting up to go set his mug and blanket inside before returning to throw the used bottle into the can outside of his door where they collected scrap materials. 

“When are going after the courser?”  Scott asked, hoping that getting back to business would quell his tired nerves.

“Tomorrow if you’re up for it, how’s the rad cold?”  Nate asked, causing MacCready to look at him in confusion.

“Better, food, sleep, and taking it easy today will get rid of any residual effects.”  He explained.

“Excuse me, what the hell is a rad cold and is it contagious?”  MacCready asked, looking at him with an expression like he wanted to hide behind Nate to get away from potential germs.

“I’m vulnerable to low rad doses over long periods of time.  It comes from eating irradiated food over a long period of time, or a long walk in the glowing sea.  It doesn’t do what radiation sickness does, it mostly just drains me and gets worse if I don’t get radaway and Buffout into my system in time.”  Scott explained, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You west coast people are all so weird.”  MacCready mused, leaning back into Nate’s chest until they were both lying semi elevated in the lounger.

“You do know that I originally was from California don’t you?”  Nate asked, smirking as the merc on top of him looked back with an arched eyebrow.

“Nate, you have done nothing to disprove my point.  Oh, let’s go try and tame this wild dog, surely it will love me and oh it bit me.”  The merc explained, smirking in defiance as the other dropped his gaze to the ground in embarrassment. 

“I tried to tame a nightstalker once that some scientists had brought back to my mom’s lab.  His name was Rattles.”  Scott explained, lying back down on his lounger as both of the men gave him odd looks.

“What in Atom’s unholy hell is a nightstalker?”  Nate asked, mentally screaming that of course there would be another creature in the waste that would want to kill him.

“It’s a dog that has scales and a tale that’s hard and rattles kind of like a can if you put nuts in it.  Rattles always followed me around and licked my hand with his long tongue when he wanted attention, he was so cute.”  Scott described, smiling at the fond memories.

“A dog crossed with a snake, why?”  The vault dweller groaned, imagining the animal in his mind.

“It could also turn invisible for some reason.  I think my mom said it was from chewing on some stealth technology or something like that.”  He finished, glancing to his side to see both men gaping at him.

“You know what, I think that I’m just going to go scavenge a lot of shovels.  Then I’m gonna dig myself a very large bunker and just live in it until I die.  I’ve had enough of the wasteland trying to murder me.  I will not go out by being attacked by a snake dog that can turn invisible, nor do I want to know what other creatures the waste has to offer.”  Nate stated, throwing his arm in the air as much as he could with the weight on his chest.

Scott sighed in content as Nate and MacCready started to debate the worth of a bunker over just taking over an old vault.  That and teasing the pre-war man with every description of every wasteland creature MacCready had met from the capital wasteland to the commonwealth.  He on the other hand took the opportunity to think about the better parts of what life had been like in the NCR.

He missed Rattles and the other animals that his mother had studied in her lab.  He was only aloud around the ones that weren’t there for dissection because his mother knew how soft his heart was for every living thing.  It was how eventually Rattles had become his pet that had a Brahmin skin bed in his mother’s office rather than a cage in the basement. 

_“You are such an odd child.”  Ellen mused, watching the nightstalker that he son had affectionately named Rattles curl around said seven year old with his scaly head set in his lap._

_“Why?”  Scott said, slipping the animal a small piece of jerky from his open palm._

_“Most kids don’t have the kinds of pets you do Scottie.”  She explained, opening the packet on her desk that had just come down from the NCR biology division that morning._

_“They’re just not cool enough to have them, huh Rattles.”  He cooed, scratching at the small collection of scales near the animal’s butt causing it to kick out its leg at the pleasurable sensation._

_“I can’t believe that I let you take a scientific sample as a pet, what have I done.”  Ellen asked fondly, setting her papers to the side to watch the pair interact._

_Scott was up on his knees, reaching over to grab a rope toy from the small box beside the nightstalker’s bed.  Holding it out to the animal in an attempt to play tug of war, the animal only stared at the boy.  Panting slightly with its long tongue hanging over the side of his mouth.  Gathering the energy to at least paw aimlessly at the toy to placate the energetic boy in front of him._

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, any comments or kudos appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated.


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